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Depression Beach Poems | Beach Poems About Depression

These Depression Beach poems are examples of Beach poems about Depression. These are the best examples of Depression Beach poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) |

the day you flew to Heaven


           We knew , it was if a moment stopped in time 
              hearing the news before most of the World did
           He loved to fly his plane from Colorado to Monterey Bay
           He was a avid golfer at Pebble Beach respected 

           He had loves and passions from many places 
           deciding to fly low through the overcast red sunset
            Not only did he love music and inspire all 
            He loved his Plane , he will always remain a beautiful Soul

              The next day it was confirmed ..all saddened 
             It was John Denver's plane that went down
             Today in Pacific Grove stands the Memorial 
             So Kiss me and smile for me we will ~
              always in loving memory 
               OH babe ,  do we hate you go ~    
                            
    

         Inspired by ; contest in Music and Loss of an Artist
                   "Leaving on a Jet Plane "
             


Details | Narrative |

The People Around Me

Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.

Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.

My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered. 

In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised, 
But it is to be called someone, 
Who can be respected.

To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.


Details | Couplet |

Unknown

Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.


Details | Free verse |

Night on a Beach

Blow into me and I bellow
a tune soft and mellow
like air through an empty beer bottle
thrown haphazardly onto a dusty shore
one sticky summer night.
I, my contents consumed,
lie hollow like the sea shells.
I lay here a shell of what I should have been.
Touch me and I'll shatter like glass
but I long to feel so I touch myself.
I fill the space between what I am and what I want to be
with yesterday's leftovers
and thoughts of unavailable men
lying beside me in the sand.


Details | Epic |

Betch Please, Really

I simply love being me for I am so good at everything step into my city and they will tell you who is King one day when I am hungry I will swallow everything then and only then shall I inherit the stuff I dream even then I promise not to settle for satisfaction at any instant half a second I could spring into full action so go against me? please, you do not even measure up to half of the goodness that I hold tight like my treasure still spreading rumors about me to try and destroy my life can't believe I let myself get beat by a stripper and my self-intended knife try and say I'm gay even though we both know that isn't the truth just ask any woman I been with if they ever needed proof they'll say I was the cream of the crop as they took it all night knowing I just may never stop I own the status of a legend now what you got left to say when I bring it twenty-four seven?


Details | Romanticism |

The Four Letter Word

Four letters put together to create one word,
with an impeccable definition.

Love...,
It is a strong word,
Close to the heart, yet
far from the woman you Love.

Butterflies flying, flapping their
orange and white wings in the summer heat.
The butterflies flap, flap their beautiful wings
together in the summertime of Love.

For Love is beautiful, like the summer preludes!

Four letters composed, to a Chopin's masterpiece.
The Romantic pole reaches out, to touch, to hold, to Love.

For these four letters are easy to read
and put together to create a complex concept
with a universal definition.
A four letter word, easy just to say,
but it is harder to show.
For Love is a simple word made up of simple letters,
but a complex meaing that takes most lifetimes to comprehend
and others a short while.

For I've seen hearts broken
and hearts put back together,
with this simple word.
My heart burned, brused, stabbed
knows the dangers of this simple, four letter word.

Love, some think it is a game
to play when you are bored.
Destroying self-esteem of girls,
who are already weak and nieve.
They long for love, but find surrealist dreams,
and see the Man of their dreams slip away in the night.
Gone without a trace.
While she is sucked into false promises,
from simple minded boys,
with only one thing on their mind.

Love..., it is a joke to some.
"I love you," is a laughing stock,
while a slap in the face, and disrespect is in fashion.
Girls, foolish girls walking in lonesome heartbreak,
saying they are in Love.
It is sad to see, and hard to hear, I know it is.

And to me Love is sometimes fair,
and most times a cruel joke.
Love, this four letter word is simple to say, but hard to comprehend.

Love me and I shall take you by the hand
show you caves of mystery,
and skies of grace and meadows, filled with flowers,
dedicated just for you, no one else, but you.
We can make Love on the sandy beaches, under the moonlit sky
under the still stars and shooting ones too.
Have a romantic dinner of oyster-shells and champange and kiss each other,
till we drown in intoxication and fall asleep in each others arms.

huh, Love... A simple, four letter word, that is easy to say,
but even harder to show.


Details | Rondeau Redouble |

Friendly Freeformmmm

'Baby, you taste like chocolate,
 
You and me we'd make a great rhyming couplet.
 
A.K.A a grinding couplet.'
 
 
 
'You can get on top of me like enjambment.'
 
 
 
'I can show you some wild imagery,
 
Me on you, you on me.'
 
 
 
'Metaphor stands for meet-at-four,
 
We'll get it on till the break of dawn.'
 
 
 
'Damn, could you BE anymore sexual?' -an example of a rhetorical question you could include...
 
 
 
'S-s-s-s-s-SEX!'- an example of sibilance you could use (and probably will).
 
 
 
'Annotate me honey, and together we can achieve a deeper meaning.'
 


Details | ABC |

Drugs are bad things

This is a poem and not a song.
It was written to tell you that drugs are wrong.

We see people on the streets every day.
Exhaling and inhaling their life away.

This is a poem and not a song.
It was written to tell you that drugs are wrong.

Families destroyed lives lost.
Those who take drugs will pay the cost.

This is a poem and not a song.
It was written to tell you that drugs are wrong.

If you take drugs daily you probably won't see.
What or who they they may cause you to be.

This is reality and not a song.
wrote to tell you that drugs are wrong.


Details | Free verse |

Never So Gracious

A full moon night to my delight what is so wrong with doing what's right nothing is right after so long no use in complaining time to move on The Dream Water one day might take me away farther from the comfort of familiarity I float on my back then shut my eyes my body now sinking into ocean arms open wide Now swallow your son back to his nature when he is no longer needed to stay here the next generation are dooming themselves they need my experience to guide them through hell Why should I bother on my own, I strive through I turn my back on the thought of bothering to save you alone in this world my, is it spacious I'm finally smiling, never so gracious.


Details | Couplet |

The Room Of Study

To sit in the confines of knowledge
At a desk the colour of porridge

An air of unescapable heat
At a desk the colour of wheat

The lure of the Mail Online
At a desk the colour of brine

Looking at Jamie Kirby's broken leg
At a desk the colour of regret




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