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Pain Elegy Poems | Elegy Poems About Pain

These Pain Elegy poems are examples of Elegy poems about Pain. These are the best examples of Pain Elegy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Elegy |

I Need Your Help Daddy

I’m tired
I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here

I can’t get back in control of my emotions 
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy

I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help 

Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance 
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help







Details | Elegy |

Running

I've trained for this. 
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the line-
24,25,26.
I see them clearly now-
My wife, my child-
smiling, cheering
as they urge me
through the echoes
of feet smacking
pavement,
through my 
tunneled view of
the victory line,
through my exhaustion,
through my pain.

I've trained for this.
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in on my targets.
Thousands! There are many!
I can see them clearly now-
a woman, a child-
smiling, cheering
as I slip past
and drop my bags.
And now I am
running
through the 
smoke and through the
screams as runners push
toward the finish line
without legs.

I've trained for this.
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the scene.
175, 176...
I see them clearly now-
the woman, the child-
lifeless, bleeding
as they urge me
through echoes 
of feet smacking
pavement,
through my
tunneled view of 
torment and death and
I can do nothing but
hold their hand.


Details | Elegy |

Eyes Never Dry

Her eyes were never dry
Since she was born she would always cry…
No matter what kind of lie I would tell
She would see right through me , a smile she didn't sell…
I don’t blame her when her lips fell…
She knew the world was aware of our pain…
She knew nobody cared about evils reign
She knew nobody cared about every body that laid lifeless on the city streets…
She knew…
So I understand…
In her still so young heart
Knowledge of the world there was that no man had…
Even though she knew it could get her killed she just couldn't stand 
When justice wasn't served 
When her mothers killers were free
And we get something no human deserves…
So I ask her please smile… 
The pain will last just for a little while…


Details | Elegy |

I AM

I am alone
In this crowd of empty faces
I have dreamed of many places
To call home

I am broken
There's no chance of fixing me
Who would listen to my plea
It's best unspoken

I am full of envy
The cute kids without special needs
They are flowers among the weeds
Ones families want to see

I am afraid
The years have passed so fast
And I'm down to my last
I feel hope fade

I am aging out
Escorted to the iron gate
In distress about to break
My future's in doubt

I am crying
To a God I do not know
For a miracle to show
To keep from dying

Elegy Poem 

Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
Contest Name: Random Mix


Details | Elegy |

Raindrops and Teardrops


Details | Elegy |

I expect her to know

I don’t want to write about my mom,
She suffered in pain before she died,

But she always said she smiled when I did
Until the pain came and took her away.

She loved me, though never said such things
I loved her sometimes, I expected  her to know,

On the evening,  the night she died
Someone advised I should place my hand on her head

And tell, I love you mom,
I was not sure if she will hear or know.

Still I placed my hand and said, I love you mom,
There was pain in her eyes, she said nothing.

I traveled in the same hearse;
Expecting no one to see,  I place my hand one more time, 

And said, I love you mom -
She showed no pain or regret, nor she gave away her smile,

I even tried smiling that she may,
I waited the long dismal journey. 

I don’t want to write about my mom,
I expect her to know.


Details | Elegy |

I fear death

I fear death, not quite death but yours, and not yours but mine
I guess I fear my death in being your survivor, but not quite
I fear grief, that it might consume me once more, but not mine
I guess it is your sorrow and despair at death that is drowning my life

I've been here before; I don't know how I survived or what inside me died
I had so many questions that she never answered; they never left, never died
So your gasping breath brings back my sorrow from that walled in stasis
I teeter on the rim of a well that reaches grief's bottom blackness, I lied

It is not your pain I fear, it's mine. I did not survive her deathbed
I never again lived. I died with her though peace I never found
I don't know if it was her death, my loss, hers, or the death cycle
But the air has stayed musty from graves while I pretended not to care

I don't know if I was there for her, or how she felt that last morning.
My memory lapses with that of the child I was then into dreams of gray
I don't know the pain of death, if it is worse to leave or know you are leaving
I don't know if she found peace or her heart broke for me or because of me.

Sorrow swells as the memories fade in, filling that well with blackness
I know that if I don't fall, it will rise up to suffocate me again
If I jump I will lose myself and never find you to say goodbye
My memory lapses, I think I jumped, did I tell her goodbye?

I fear my grief. Grief is all, nothing before or after exists.
I fear that grief will over shadow my mind and I won't be there
I fear that this sorrow will rob me of the words to say I love you
I fear despair will take my soul and this time I'll have nothing left of home.

How do I ask you to share this life with me when I don't know if I'll survive your death?
How do I ask you to live each day and don't let me run when I ran from her?
How do I ask you to believe in me and don't fear when I fear myself?
How do I ask you to comfort me when I'm too afraid to comfort you?


I never asked her to hold me again, to comfort, because she was the one dying.
What right do I have to ask the sick to comfort the healthy, the dead the living?	
And how could I, being the first spirit to die, ask the ones who speak of life still
to comfort the shell I left behind while theirs decays before my eyes? 
There are no comforts to sooth the guilt of living, but forgiveness will birth new life.



Details | Elegy |

listless

Soft rain
Leaves shake
Worry fades
but sleep escapes
thoughts prowl
Dream awake
her face only
my mind quakes
close my eyes
Toss and sigh
What night
reveals
the  sun will hide


Details | Elegy |

Tears Must Fall (In honor of the Virginia Tech tragedy)

Unlock your sorrowful tears,
Let them flow Like a raging river. 

From the depths of your being
howl Like a wolfcub who has been
Abandoned by his pack.

Ask for the comfort you will
need in all the days to come.

Keep your expression of sorrow
with you as Long as you need to grieve.
It will bend of it's own 
accord when you are finished.

Allow yourself the unhindered crying
your soul will require to heal.

To make sense of things, grasp your 
spirituality as a way of sailing 
far far away from the utter
horror of it all.

Do not try to push those tears aside,
as your pain and suffering is meaningful,

Though it does not feel that way now...

Take their photo's from your wallets
and display them at will,
with awesome Love and abundant pride.
Take them out as need be
and shower them with tears and memories.

I promise you, it will validate
their very existance.

Know that the very waters of your
faith will certainly be tested.
Also know that this too shall pass.

Your pain will remain forever but
your faith will return tenfold.

Allow the Light to pass over your
darkness and believe that one day
There will be healing.

If you can find the strength within,
you must allow for access back into
Your hearts, for one day you will
feel entitled to open the gates that
have held you under seige.

         
Because grief will never Leave you
where it finds you...


Details | Elegy |

On hearing that Ronnie

     for Ronald Hindmarsh-Midwood (24.O5.30 - 17.01.92)
To recall a friend is never an adieu
  he has merely stepped across the landing
 the light still beams  the door's ajar
 you can hear him pacing  humming  swinging the windows
   to let the street in the warmth the wind ruffled through his half-opened shirt
Across the spare digs halfway to the Schloss
 austere in the shaded light slanting on drab curtains
 the bare table rough-hewn the dishevelled books
  the gaping porcelain jug and still wet basin
  the whiff of fresh-bitten soap  the close shave
 and the stiff white collar excusing the day-old striped shirt
A gentle tap  the door opens to a glass of port
 cut bread and even if you will not cheese
"Beware! Beware you don't become an Hasbeen!"
  he made no bones of his luck from stipends through Reading
  the wideopen eyes commisserating through the flailing sheaf
  fallen on his ample brow the hand ever brushing aside
    that wilful unconcern in your life
     in your little worries   your mishaps
And you knew you had mattered in his life 
To recall a friend is to give body to form
    to words that bind muscle to bone   those mutual moments
You may come back a quarter of a century later
And he is still there a trifle stumped by your aged face
      the mutual moments flow without break 
You had driven through four sleepless nights
  your eyes peeled beyond weariness your mind bristling and in the red
"Take care! Take care", he said, "lest you burn both ends!" 
Other worlds other duties
  keep you from bringing up his face
  keep you from keeping mementoes: "Never excuse, never apologise!"
 yes   you might have penned a word
   when the stolid face swung back
 you didn't  for that would've been abrupt
  too flippant unceremonious requiring tact
So you turn up a l'improviste
   the mutual moments flow over coffee at the Konditorei
   the same cream curtains the same goldbraided periodlike chairs
  over neatly folded ceremoniallike lace
  the irreal flood of filtered light outside 
 no more the tug and grating pull of trams to dull your words
 Again the same attentive stare    the same empathic vigil
   for your fresh worries  for your private imbroglios
 while he foregoes a meal at the menus
Only you hadn't known nor suspected
  the stealthy pain gnawing away at the bones
 nor did he let it be shown
 Only the stoic face and the pained look
  for your own blasé pain 
© T.Wignesan, July 4, 1992[from the collection: back to background material, 1993]


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