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Depression Life Poems | Life Poems About Depression

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

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Details | Rhyme |

What Only Angles Hear

Daddy never did understand.
That violence doesnt bring comfort.
A lost soul seeking acceptance from a unwelcome hand.

She was silent no one ever knew.
The secrets behind her bruised eyes.
A shocking victem none but all had a clue.

She cried to empty walls never speaking aloud from fear.
A confession of pain and shattred trust.
this is only what angles hear.

Scars selfinflicted  are better than that 
dirty feeling.
As she lays a broken shell gazing  at the celling.

She questions if others know what will they say.
Doing whatever it takes to stay numb.
Innocence lost a parent should never betray.

The guilt was placed apon the wrong head.
Void of all emotion.
No child should yern to be dead.

At times it gets to uncomfortable so in 
another direction we  steer.
For at times it's just to painful to stomach.
What only angles  hear.


Details | Free verse |

Pretty Flower in the Deep woods

VINEYARDS of HAPPINESS          ---------------------      GARDEN of SORROW

There is no greater Happiness,-----------when-----------Pulling away  sorrow
then being in my  lover's arms,-------letting go of----Broken memories 
Kissed by his  hungry lips,-------------------------------Rejecting all hunger, of love
spoiled by his sweetest charms.-----------------------The surface spoiled look in his face

There is no greater Happiness,------------------------Holding the depth of solitary sorrow
feeling my love's warm embrace,-----------------------Feelings of cold,no emotions on Gods grace
Meeting in our secret GARDEN,-----------------------Prolonging the visit to our VINEYARD
Opening dreams' golden gates.------------------------the door you open leads into dark woods

There is no greater Happiness,-------------------------Reviving every motion of sorrow
and there 'll never be ,for me,----------------------------trapped forever inside of me
till that far promised day,------------------------------------Broken promises day by day
My Honey  love s' here with me.------------------------a wound so fresh, damaged like a twig
                                                   

            HAPPINESS  -------------------------to-------------------- SADNESS

Happiness to me,is as easy as can be,----------------Sadness triumphs over anything in me
a doughnut,a cup of English Tetley tea.------some nights----------A bucket of ice cream,a bottle of Jack Daniel
Lying on my beige leather sofa,------------some days-------------Slouching up against the wall
Covered by a Woolen red tartan rug,------------- tears fallen like a red river on the carpet
Hugging and Kissing,Fondling and snogging,--- some mornings ---Crying and Weeping,Wiping the Sobbing
Just watching T.V.------------------------------------------Just imaging you                                                                    
                                          

         THE  ROSE===============================WITHER

Love is a Pink Rose,--------------------------------------------A rose in the dark woods
with a crown of thick Grey thorns,--------------------------Like a cloud following you
delicate and strong.-----------------------------------------------Tilting till its gone
By ;Charma                                                        By : P.D.


inspired By : Charmaine Chircop            compose By : Poet Destroyer

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Details | Acrostic |

Open Sores

I am a coward with open sores. 
I write and wonder who it bores. 
I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly. 
I see others carrying out my dreams; 
that’s what’s defeated me.
 
I am a coward with open sores. 
I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way. 
I touch base with the fear in my heart, tearing me apart,
leaving nothing to say... 
I worry the world will leave me. 
I cry because no one believes in me. 

I am a coward with open sores. 
I understand nothing comes easy. 
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me. 
I dream I am healed and brave. 
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave. 
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours. 
I am a coward with open sores. 




©  2011  ~JSLaM    

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* 1st PLACE in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by C. Devonshire 2011

* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand 5/11/2011 

* 1st PLACE in Contest "BEST EVER" Sponsored by P.D. 2011
                 
   


Details | Free verse |

Things That Seemed Poetic

Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love that we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.


Details | Light Poetry |

*UNICORN*

.                 Like the UNICORN

At times I fear I am the mysterious of all animals.
Like the Unicorn I my self do not feel real
My inner beauty is the only thing you can steal.
I am my own mythological creature..
A roaming soul with a little will power to heal
 
Ages of my forgotten tear.
Like the Unicorns prophecy so unclear.
I compare your beauty to be the eye of my stare
I propose to you the one who possess a magical power so rare
Absorbing the energy of the sun in to my own spear
Untamed like the wild horse is the way I appear
I have no feelings of real existence, my life to you I compare.
Like you I want my thoughts and memories to disappear

Wasting away absorbing natures life
Drowning in my own and everyone's emotions
Haunted in the woods by a hunters knife.
Thousands of wolves hungry for my motions

Fallen in to thoughts of legends and myth
Pondering in a past life who am I with
I feel a  touch upon my bones.
Am I he the Unicorn 
A horse with one horn
Unlike the Unicorn who fell to exist
My suffering  really does exist.
How I wish every thing about me was fake
Your magical beauty  I can't resist.
To be like you hiding upon the mist

Like the Unicorn who is a horse when it has no horn.
I feel like a nobody when my life slips into the abyss 
A depth of wishing to have never been  born
With the vision of  Heaven’s Realm with a Unicorn twist

Like the Unicorn who only exist in stories, Legends and Myth.
I come out of peoples mouths like a blown kiss.
Shedding many tears feeling all alone.
I want to be like the Unicorn who are bound to roam
Take me away from this wonders of thorns.
Give me a magic Medallion to free my spirit out of these pits
Infatuated with the gorgeous sight upon the Unicorns.
A passion among beauty is where my life fits.

by; P.D.


Details | Prose Poetry |

Lucila

So I walked into my local supermarket
to buy my weekly shipment of Kit Kat bars,
Cinnamon Toast Crunch,
and Ovaltine powder mix.

As I shake off the snow on my fake Timberland boots,
my skin,
coated in frozen animation,
thaws into warmth’s teardrops from
the supermarket’s 75 degree vents.

This moist sense of happiness was quickly interrupted
when I heard Wilson Phillips, “Hold On”
over the PA system.

Thankfully, the cutlery isle was just to my left. 
So, now, I had plans!

But, before I could commit felony’s song,
I saw her.

A Portuguese goddess
with a strut that can ruin a man’s dignity.

She had Autobahn curves,
dark brown curls of hair & visuals,
and thick flesh meat that even Vegans would envy.

Her face lacked Maybelline coated misapprehension.
Thank God!
Cause I never did like clowns.

After staring longingly at her,
like a crack head with impulsive eyes upon a broken/unlabeled bag of baby powder,
she breezed past my stifled posture and clocked in to work.

She didn’t even get a chance to smell my $500 cologne called “Piece of Me”.

So with new-found urges to grab all my groceries,
like a burglar who really has to pee,
I rush to express checkout. 

There she is.

Her register beeps in coupon lady’s rhapsody,
while my register needs a cleanup on Isle 9.

Now it’s my turn.

With girlish inner-screams of boy-band intensity,
I say, “Hi”.

She scans my apples, while I scan her melons.
The melons that the customer ahead of me didn’t want…
…they were on sale.

Go fig.

As if she read my mind,
she asks,
“Are you feeling warm now?”

“All I want is to be the heat in your moment”,
which I almost said.

But, “Now I am”, is uttered.

As she smiled with seductive demure,
she handed me my receipt
with her phone number on back.

As I left the market,
I began to get cold again.

These winds of change
became gusts of numbness.

I locked myself out of my heart.

I turned around to go back inside.

Only to discover, 
she didn’t have the key.

© Drake J. Eszes


Details | Rhyme |

Suicide Mind

What makes the decision
To flick the switch
To end ones life
For the sake of it
 
Troubled, debts
Bullied at school
Fork in the road
To let death rule
 
Mums, dads
Daughters and sons
What ever affects them 
They just can't outrun
 
Sadness and tears
By all left behind
Will they ever understand
Suicide Mind


Details | Concrete |

Our Glass

.
Through the same glass another sand sags dragging excuses thick extensions unwelcome going on going by going down constant ripples without reflections that engulf this soul Somebody find me, Anybody


Details | Rhyme |

Behind the mask

Behind the mask there is a frail and fragile me
Enigmas clothed in conundrums; that the naked I can’t see

'Behind the mask is concealed, my authenticity
Examine my history to unravel my perplexing mysteries

Behind the mask it is unseen paralyzing, piercing pain
With arrogance and self-assurance camouflaging the shame

Behind the mask is hidden my true Identity.
Seek and survey the signs of my obscurity

Behind the mask is veiled a heart that’s been broken
Held together by unexpressed resentment and animosity unspoken 

Behind the mask is where my insecurity hides,
Like realism wrapped in riddles, you must read between the lines

Behind the mask is where I cover my falling tears
Dig just below the surface and you’ll unearth my crippling fears

Behind the mask there are cloaked secrets unexplained and untold
Decipher the symbols to crack my encrypted codes


Behind the mask you’ll uncover my True expressions 
Remove and reveal parodies, and expose the false impressions

Behind the mask, it is hidden, my Individuality.
Not acting out some script of who I’m thought to be

Behind the mask is obscured my, vulnerability
 Suppressing the mounting manifestation of the inner me

Behind the mask it is disguised, my true reflection
Underneath open wounds inflected by rejection 

Behind the mask rest crushed and shattered dream
Where fear muzzles roaring whispers and screeching silent screams

Behind the mask is buried, my stolen youth
Deception, and cover-ups, masquerading as facts and truth

Behind the mask is where I screen the confusion
Look close and you’ll find, trickery and deception, draped in fantasy and optical 
illusions

Behind the mask it’s stifling; it is hard for me to breathe,
The walls of deceit  that i have built ,are quickly  closing in on me. 

I am trapped behind facades of smirks and phony smiles.
So may I please remove this mask just for a little while?

Chiquita Baity


Details | Free verse |

Time Out

Make no haste,
your work is restless.

Aeon give me pause--
no more ticking
gears grinding
ever towards the
lonely end.

Live the now.
Even Death took
a holiday,
veering briefly from an
eternity of reaping
solitude.

Take your time
on earth and
mingle--
overindulge in
reverie.
Rest assured,
oblivion can
wait.


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