These Sad Quatrain poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Sad. These are the best examples of Sad Quatrain poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
"Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought." - Percy Shelley
Do not tell me to smile
while tears run down my cheek,
just because I am melancholy
does not mean I am weak.
I cannot fake happiness
these are real tears I cry,
if they are invisible to you
I really wonder why.
They say look on the bright side
and this only makes me mad,
my emotions are not hidden
I am unafraid to be sad.
You cannot understand it
wished, prayed for it to go,
these sorrows you tried to end
yet, this is all I know.
Tears flow through my veins
not the red blood of life,
this heart sobs, it does not beat
outpouring all my cares and strife.
I am happy in sadness
not in a fake smile,
so, let my tears fall
I want to be sad for awhile.
If you hate sad poetry
than I am not for you,
I will write a "happy" poem
when I am ready to.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
September 20th, 2013
A fleeting still small voice tries to warn me
A sudden overwhelming desire to run
The tell tale taste of metallic flakes
Means my nightmare has begun
Everything around takes on a ghostly pallor
A landscape of anguish and corrosion
A moment of silence before the violence
The flash of light, the brilliant explosion
The sound of the Sun fills my ears
Fear, my throat, though none escapes me
And paralyzed I clench my eyes
As my tormentor prepares to rape me
And it's endeavor is absolute
Consumption is its ultimate goal
It exists to chase me so it can erase me
Whilst feasting on my soul
And then that familiar salty smell
The sudden rush of warmth so stings
Engaging me relentlessly
In vile unspeakable things
Over and over and over again
My limbs stretched and wrought
As it's teeth tear my bones bare
It's mind defiles my thoughts
And still wounds beget wounds beget wounds
As in the mouth of madness I suffer
And with every injury he just seems to be
Rougher and rougher and rougher
Then just as suddenly as it began it ceases
And for a moment I am clearer
And then the true horror of it all
Is revealed in a darkly lit mirror
There in front of me stands my destroyer
Face flush with it's fill of my pain
And I find that it's eyes and mine
My God, they’re one in the same
What do you do all day, I wonder
When you're not teaching me at school
You have no ring on your left finger
And you always cling to that rule(r)
You speak as if we are listening
I admit you seem nice enough
Do you enjoy your current life
Or is it lonely, boring, tough?
Although for science you have such a passion
You look lonely, at least to me
I'm sure you must have a family
But do you have family you often see?
You talk and talk and talk
Do you think that I understand?
(My eyes are getting tired
But still I move my hand)
What do you do at home, I wonder
Do you live all alone?
No wonder you spend so much time here
You have an empty home
Shrouds of mist did cloak the day.
Whispering winds with list did play.
Upon the graves of human minds
shrouds of mist were left behind.....
Well-wrought webs of darkness dim
vibrant thoughts held within.
The minds of humans do decay
as shrouds of mist on sorrow play.
Shrouds of mist did cloak the day
as waves of senses swept away
and all of those who dare rebel
were swiftly grasped and swirled to hell.
*Written at 16
I am forever blue,
Just like the sky,
All the rain that falls on you,
Is how I feel when I cry.
I am deep blue like the sea,
Barely breathing beneath the waves,
How lonely can one be?,
There's nothing left here to save.
This feeling is not once in a blue moon,
It lasts all day and night,
It's as deep as a blue lagoon,
With no end in sight.
The frosty air is so cold,
On this blue December night,
Here is what my future holds,
And I know it isn't right.
My whole life has been so blue,
With so many turns like a river,
The water is so cold now, too,
It makes me really shiver.
My future is so blue,
And this is my only end,
I want to tell you, I love you,
Because you're my only friend.
Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for
Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain
Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin
I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail
Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled
Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss
How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run
I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance
James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "
The pro-Hanoi Vietcong many years ago
In the 1950's Diem's government they'd overthrow
All opposition was crushed killed or jailed
These elected ones to their people they failed
This Buddhist country so religious in belief
Now politically torn apart, impending future grief
In the early 1960's with the CIA in place
Discussing with Vietnam's generals, Diem, assassinated in disgrace
With the Vietcong army, growing from strength to strength
Another communist foothold, going to any lengths
In 1965, with 3500 U.S. Marines in place
By December of that year, 200,000 in many a base
These U.S. Marines, in their defensive mode
Over the coming months, peace would soon erode
With the Tet Offensive upon us, and the "Battle of Hue"
The Americans were now involved, this bloody war now brews
One decision to end this conflict, came in 1969
Nixon sent 18 B-52s, bordering Soviet airspace line
He wanted to show he was capable, to end this bloody war
But as the months and years progressed, the body count would soar
The anti-war movement was gathering strength, also in 1969
But the "Green Beret Affair" started to undermine
A U.S. Army platoon raped and pillaged, the village of My Lai
Where civilians were massacred, and many left to die
In 1970-71, Cambodia incurred wars wrath
Where they and the country Laos, were in the U.S. bombing path
Also in 71, there was the cutting of the Ho Chi Minh trail
But arms and supplies got through, this mission to no avail
Later in the same year, the Anzac's withdrew their soldiers
The U.S. also reduced, many of theirs from Vietnam's borders
In 1973, Nixon declared the suspension of offensive action
The Paris Peace Accords took place, peace with this warring faction
Between the years 73 - 74 under Trà, the Vietcong grew in strength
There was no mass offensive, to lure the Americans to their trench
Gradually they marched to their target, to see their enemies eyes
To their city of Saigon, now over a million humans have died
The average age of the American to die in this bloody war
Was just nineteen years old, never knowing what they were fighting for
So many came home from this horror, leaving themselves behind
Because so many came home different, home with a different mind
Even to this day, many Americans look back and ask
Why their elected Congress, feed them to these tasks
The sad thing about Vietnam, it continues to this present day
Where governments make decisions, asking guns to hear their say
Your going has left a hole in my heart that time,
The Great Healer, cannot repair.
Your going has left a hole in my existence
That forever and beyond will not heal,
A hole ever expanding from its own nothingness,
A hole through which all the goodness,
All the kindness of you is slipping through.
You were my sounding board.
Trite ideas offered, came back
Enhanced, brilliant and sparkling.
Borrowing intelligence from you, I grew wiser.
Doors opened before me as I strove to be worthy
Of you, my beloved son.
I go on now as you would have me do,
Searching in Nature for the joy
You found in its wonders.
Hearing bird songs with your ears,
Relating to others with your empathetic instincts.
Striving, ever striving to be the person
And mother that you believed me to be
And never letting your memory grow dim
For those you loved and for whom you sacrificed.
You came into this world with a wisdom
That did not come from me.
I thank God each day for His lending you to me
For the time that I had you near
And I cling to His promise
That I will see you again.
I could not tell from whence you came,
Born with a wisdom that did not come from me,
And I do not know where you have gone,
Part of myself, the better part--into Eternity.
Originally entered as verse
A Letter to my Son
Your going has left a hole in my heart
That Time, that great healer cannot repair.
Your going left space in my existence
That forever and more will still be there.
Ever expanding from it nothingness
A hole from which your goodness has slipped through.
The kindnesses you wore as a halo
Have disappeared as well since I lost you.
I used you as a sounding boad to measure
The wisdom and the beauty of the world.
Your ideas were so clear and brilliant,
Through you my own best aptitudes unfurled.
I'm trying to live up to your standards.
I want to be more worthy of you, Son.
You told me once I was the perfect mother,
And with you life was such a lot of fun.
I thank God every day for loan of you.
The time we had was more than worth the pain.
And now I'm clinging tight to his promise
That some day I will see you once again.
I do not know from whence you came,
Blessed with wisdom that did not come from me.
Each day I pray I know where you have gone;
Taking my heart into Eternity.
looking deep into her face
for minutes at a time
one finger in her hair
more pleasent than the chime
I've long dreamed of her touch
dreams to caress her mind
holding her close to heart
and we'll together bind
so close she is to me
I reach and touch her lip
gently with my finger
though lusting for her hips
and either I should kiss
as either would be bliss
as my hands draw on her
and we end so breathless
I see her hand in mine
I'd know it without sight
warming and soft to feel
I'd hold it all my nights
I wished to delve her mind
I wished to know that girl
let her sorrow be gone
unto me I shall feel
never distort the air
nor show signs of concern
if I hold her to me
little to be discerned
but that's not who I am
to see through rosey shades
be draped in silken cloth
that's not how I was made
I see what could calm me
her sinuous body
lovely before all eyes
teasing me wantonly
see the unloved lover
so wretched to behold
I'll keep my eyes above
yet my heart remains cold
A soul cries yet nobody hears him
They say he has neither a head nor limbs
But he has a soul and a spirit
Undesirable is the soul to be taken from the womb
A soul cries yet nobody hears him
His voice is so mild that no one can hear him
He’s damned for a crime he didn’t commit
No supplication and inspiration to share
A soul still cries yet nobody hears him
He has neither words nor songs to hymn
He’s languishing from a lashing whip
A victim to hatred, dubiety and immorality
A soul cries yet nobody seems to care
He pleas for his precious life to be spared
Yet with a mild voice no one will give an ear
With despair he cries and screams into the night
A soul cries yet this girl has turned a deaf ear
A voice tells her “eliminate him from here”
But a master fate will sometimes have it to be
The Dame escorted him six feet underground
The Poet Preacher © 2014