These Couplet Angst poems are examples of Couplet poems about Angst. These are the best examples of Couplet Angst poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
I look across the bed… you’re not there… you’re dead.
I look across the bed and see…you’re no longer next to me.
I reach over and try to feel your skin,
and remember all the joy there had been…
but my hands come back empty…trying desperately to hold on,
barely clinging to life now that your gone.
And I let out a cry I’m quite sure heaven hears,
Or will it linger in limbo for all of my years.
How lonely this bed, where imprisoned I lay.
How long can I take this day after day?
They say that in spirit your right next to me.
But that is no comfort for it’s blackness I see.
They say that it’s time to move on with my life,
But they have no clue of my pain and my strife.
You were my best friend, my angel, my love,
You were hand picked for me from above.
You were the one who’s soul I adored
Whatever I did you were there to applaud.
You alone knew me inside and out,
And the love that we shared left no one to doubt.
For you were my angel sent from above,
To care for, to lean on, to cherish and love…..
So I’ll go back to bed where imprisoned I lay,
And hope for a joy that visits someday.
‘’ ‘ ‘ ‘’’ ‘’’’’
Like a lady-in-waiting in rags of night
questions divide wrong from right,
ripping faded threads without seams
as daybreak continues its beams, its beams
Again, yearning to taste the thrill of dawn
clay feet slowly loitering, dawdling on
for crystalline wishes that did not come to pass
dazed eyes are now compelled to plead, to ask
Was such existence just a dance of mixed fantasy?
a fool’s waltz of pungent deceit and treachery
a wrenching flood of wasted years
cloaked in love masks and bloodshot tears
And she hides behind aged trees and edgily slips
While salt of pain pressed on Calvary’s lips,
an echo strains she may be cherished still
that only the cross of doubt haunts her will
More shadows loom upon hills rancid green
is this a tale of truth or lie, her twilight unseen?
she breathes to touch stretched hours of time
oh, will she leave or stay; tossing a dime, a dime
‘ ‘’’’’ ‘ ‘
Contest: Debbie Guzzi’s Tell Me a Story
By: nette onclaud/
There are times we are left to cope
With situations that drain our hope
Leaving us full of despair
At how some people just don't care
About the evil that they do
To good people like all of you
We are left to somehow face
That in mankind there is disgrace
And those of us left alive
Must find away to survive
As you pick up the pieces of your life
Without your mother, father, husband or wife
And some of you God forbid
Without the love of your kids
We must band together with a brotherhood
Show that in this world there is some good
Because we are together in this deal
We try to help each other heal
We seek in each other good advice
And offer each other sacrifice
We hold each other in prayer and song
As we continue to re-build the wrong
Because what else in the world can we do
Except let the light of good shine through
The evil darkness and despair
Of a catastrophic lack of care
We want you to know you are not alone
Think of America as a giant cone
And all of us are funneling through
Our prayers and hopes to all of you
Posted for Nathan's 9-11 contest
Something evil this way comes
Sure as the rising of the Son
A single heart left to bleed
A lost soul with a dying need
When love proves it doesn’t care
In creeps darkness and despair
Angry voices from deep with-in
Scream I’m a fool once again
I now make my soul like a cave
It’s the darkness that I now crave
Around my heart I shall build a moat
With blood sacrifices unto the goat
Deep in darkness as a soul can be
Father of darkness come feed on me
She destroyed the love in my soul
I do pray that hate fills up the hole
Troubled souls with hallow voices
In this life we all make choices
My choices have left me degraded
I now hate the person I created
Into darkness away from the Son
Something evil this way comes
Yea, I posted this for Deborah's contest.
Believe it or not this is who i used to
be. Poetry is a truly amazing tool when
it comes to change, it transformed this
into the man I am. All I can say about
that, "Praise be the Power of God".
Terror seizes you, and it isn't kind.
You try to go somewhere peaceful in your mind.
But the pain rips you right back to here and now.
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of even saying "ow."
You try to be strong, but he tears from you, a scream.
Oh God, please let this be a terrible, terrible dream.
I thought he was supposed to be a friend of mine?
As the tears grow down my face like vine.
He tells me I wanted it, even though I screamed no.
He says my attitude and outfit told him so.
In the same breath, he threatens me never to tell.
If they ask why the tears, you better say you fell.
As I got out of the car he pulled me to him and hugged me tight.
He kissed my forehead and said Don't worry you'll be all right.
Just remember, if you open your mouth, no one will believe a dirty whore.
Now go inside before I take you for another ride and give you some more.
Into the house and straight into the shower.
I was in there for what felt like hours and hours.
My grandmother knew right from the start.
Please don't tell, it would break Daddy's heart.
Please, Grandma he's not worth Daddy going to jail.
For my sake and his, you can never, ever tell.
She kept her promise and never uttered a word.
At night, she told me, my cries she heard.
For six weeks I kept my secret and told not another soul.
For six weeks I sunk deeper and deeper into a hole.
Not until I heard that he raped a fourteen year old girl.
Knowing I could have prevented it, shattered my world.
I finally told my horror story to the cops and to my Dad.
I don't think I'd ever seen him so violently mad.
Mike was arrested, but in jail he would not stay.
He lived around the corner and we had to move away.
He got probation, but not for me, his word against mine.
I was sixteen, of legal age to consent, so for me he'd get no time.
His punishment, probation for only a couple of years.
Me and his other victim were left with our fears.
Would he find us and take revenge for what he said was a lie?
Would my father hunt him down, and go to prison for a rapist to die?
He got away, pretty much scot-free for his deplorable crime.
His victims were the ones who were serving the time.
This IS a true story, my story, but not my story alone. After 8 years and raping several
other women Mike was sentenced to 35 years in prison. As he pleaded his innocence, we were
all in some way vindicated. He never did a day for brutally raping me, NOT ONE DAMN DAY.
But he's doing plenty now. I hope he gets ALL that he deserves.
Time passing all around in the air
Seemingly so without even a care
On the ground an empty turtle shell
Off to swim the vacant waterless well
Watching from inside the tree so hollow
The Pied Piper plays and they all follow
Staring blanks into that black hole sun
Marching prisioners from the lost race run
Hark the demons and how they do sing
Calling out unto the sacred buried things
Echoing reverb in the darkness so vast
Spiral downward crazy how it goes so fast
Searching for answers in all that's unsaid
But left speechless and one of the undead
Anticipating that strife and all the misery
Quietly awaiting amid all that haunts me
Counting the leaves while they do fall down
During the removal of such a gifted crown
Grasping fiercely stubborn for what I may
When all the cherished goods steal away
Screaming silence and left in the wake
As the mirror begins to crack and break
Turning to the darkest parts deep inside
Bravely I dig into that cesspool of pride
Bringing winter's bitter yet sweet icy cold
Touching the shards of glass ever so bold
But the shattered pieces turn into icy stones
And while bleeding among them I cry alone
Copyright by Scarlett Sepulvado Anderson
One Toy Soldier
Little toy soldiers are all put away
Training is over for this time of day.
Where do these little boys go now to play?
Away from their home to die in the fray.
Little toy weapons are no longer there
But boxed in attics by mothers with care--
Where keepsakes still hold a lock of his hair--
While rockets and missles challenge his fare.
Little toy bad guys and little toy good
Haze in the distance when misunderstood.
Where fall the lilies on long crates of wood
And each gave their all--as good soldiers should...
Little toy soldiers are coming back home...
Mothers are weeping, laments all alone
Where flags lie folded--the gift of Shalom...
As the long box is lowered...'neath the loam
One little toy soldier is placed on the top
Remembering All--so that None be Forgot.
You left your sickness rotting on my tongue
But it seems your betrayal has only begun
Infected, my throat lets no word pass their lips
Your sickness has become a total eclipse
Brittle, my tongue slowly begins to decay
Broken, my feet still dance your ballet
Made low by the sickness within your soul
You leave me with no virtues to extol
Condemned like a house my roof to cave
A grain of sand on shore eroded by the wave
Fractured, my fingers still beg me to speak
Blinded, my eyes hide and forget to seek.
Silence like a cancer it cankers my voice
And as it grows I am left with no choice.
You left your sickness to rot on my tongue
Terminal, the cancer for one so young.
I’ve tasted betrayal before just like I have tasted lies
but each time it’s so bitter, the taste always a surprise.
I cannot expel this sickness you left to rot in my soul
the brittleness of your lies that made you lose control.
So I am left no resolution and more unanswered questions,
you told me it would be an hour when I’d only had seconds.
You came in as an infection and you’re leaving a disease
once proud I stood and yet you brought me to my knees
your taking me down and you’re dragging me low.
Why take my hand if you only plan to just let go?
My life is very insular, I move from page to page
never straying far from words which prance upon the written stage.
like a sputtering engine my tongue tangles on a phrase
I rub my eyes, red and raw, I can't remove my aged gaze.
My fingers curl and knuckles gnarl as velum dances right
I read, I write, I think and pause, I can't turn out the light.
Compose, I will, adjust I must, each simile an anchor
to a life much analyzed, but lived with little rancor.
like the scribes of ancient Rome my fingertips are worn
yet I persist with joyous bliss for I know I must go on.
My form has bent, bowed and curled to meet the need of the word
God forbid, I went through this lifetime never being heard.