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Sad Dark Poems | Sad Poems About Dark

These Sad Dark poems are examples of Sad poems about Dark. These are the best examples of Sad Dark poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Light Poetry | |

Poetry in Poetry a Duet of Lonely Blues

Poetry

Is not the poem
Is not the poet

Is the observations
Is the emotions

Is the diversity. entwined
Opposing views always sought

Is the love
Is the hate

Is the sadness
Of losing to fate

Is the laughter
Of a child’s dreams

Is the love
That is sometimes unseen

Except by the poet
Who in his lonely sadness sees

The beauty of all
That surrounds the depression in he



In Poetry

I died
Long ago

My heart something broke
I became cold

I cried
For childhood days gone by

I died
A million ways

Now I write
From down below

Where darkness is the sea
That I sail in eternity

Of in the distance
I heard the notes of a symphony

So now as I sleep
A thousand deaths

I hope
For that one musical note

To wake me up
Heart and soul

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Free verse | |

Nightmares and Razor Blades

I stare at my ceiling,
I start to wonder, why am I not healing?
Then it dawns on me,
The nightmare clip starts to roll.
I shake and shiver and wince at every little thing.
I'm scared to death, 
What does this all mean?
I start to cry,
I feel as if I might die.
Then I grab my blade, 
The tears come quicker.
My breath starts to quicken,
My grip on the blade makes my knuckles turn white.
In the mirror is where I see that my ivory skin is now blotchy and red.
I tell myself, "This may be the last time, if you finally cut deep enough."
So I try my best not to make a sound 
As I sit up in bed and hold my wrist out in front of me. 
I count to three,
One, 
I put the blade to my wrist.
Two,
I start to add pressure.
Three,
I yank the blade across my skin,
It pierces and then I start to bleed.
I suddenly want it to stop, 
But there's no going back now. 
I wonder why it came to this,
I know nobody cares about me,
I know nobody is going to forget me.
Quietly I say, "I'm sorry."
But nobody is there,
No one will ever be.
I start to fade out of this world,
My addiction would finally be gone,
And so would I.
I was lost, 
Lost and angry. 
Suddenly, it was gone,
I woke up screaming.
The pain was oh-so real.

Copyright © Mackenzie Lakin

Details | Rhyme | |

Her Masterpiece Is Her Story

Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.

One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That this girl will fall
into an eternal sleep.

She doesn't remember how she started
What brought her interest to this,
How do you discover,
that cutting is your form of bliss?

No one would have guessed that she does it.
No one would have considered this one.
This girl is forever fighting a battle,
that she thinks the demons have won.

Her artwork is all over her,
Her beauty is on her thighs,
and if you look in her old trash,
you'll find her letters of goodbye.

Her masterpiece is quite disturbing,
Her masterpiece is a little gory,
Her artwork is her escape.
Let me tell you her story.

She compares herself to every person,
She is compared to each girl.
She thinks she's hideous,
And there's this boy that is her world.

She was bullied and picked on,
She was teased from head to toe,
Hard to believe that her best friend,
was her one and only foe.

Then later she disliked every little thing,
Her body, face and even her mind,
Soon she saw she was a failure,
and it was just in due time...

That this girl couldn't take it anymore
She'd decided she was done living this,
So one day she went home
and decided to end it.

Everyday for multiple days,
This girl would try to drown,
Hard to believe this girl at school,
never ever wore a frown.

Sometimes she'd just fall asleep crying,
Praying that she'd be enough,
Because she didn't want to leave her family.
She knew about their sweet love.

This girl found hope in small things eventually,
She soon would see this beautiful light,
and find a REAL best friend,
that helped her put up a fight.

Her masterpiece soon was leaving,
Her artwork was almost faded,
and it gave her a sick feeling,
the feeling of being jaded.

She found a boy that actually loved her,
And showed her love exists,
And this boy too had a masterpiece,
placed close to his wrists.

He related to her and she related to him.
She kissed his artwork and said he's not alone,
When she cut herself it hurt him,
Her masterpiece now wasn't just her own.

Her masterpiece effected others,
Her artwork wasn't just for herself,
She now had people, 
who saw her cries for help.

And then her family found out,
So then they saw the art too,
to them they were just scars,
To her they were the truth.

She's trying to be okay now,
She thinks she might survive,
Even though they didn't think
to take away the knives.

Copyright © Madison Marie

Details | Alliteration | |

The Malkavian part 1 perfect version

His mind has all the meaning of a madman that is screaming
Tortured and tormented, a life lived to be lamented
Drained and defeated, his family finally retreated 
Leaving him believing that he was beyond redeeming 
The doctors sent in spoke of hope and healing 
The drugs they administered only made him more demented 
Cemented is the feeling that his life is just an echo 
Of an endless, timeless, all-consuming screaming 

His best friend is a disproportioned bird, appropriately named buddy 
Whose monotonous motion in drinking is somewhat soothing to his being 
Though not potent enough to stop, the persistent pounding of the screaming
Often he stares into the emptiness of nothingness, contemplating the beauty 
of its existence 
Only to find his mind is drowning in a confounding conundrum he can’t quite 
define
It’s hard to be philosophical when your mental testicles have fallen to the proper 
level
So sometimes he whispers tongue twisters until his brain blisters
Madmen mask madness in the meticulous mastery of mindless tasks

Buddy was telling a troubling tale, of a dragon drunk off of some dwarven ale 
Who through two days, threw up flames and burnt down the tavern and town 
When the door to his room opened with a plume of plum perfume 
In stepped an inept and unkempt nurse named Nancy
Her green eyes and fiery red hair caused his heart to flutter and flair with fancy
She had quite the quiet voice and was quick to trip over her own two feet 
A bit naïve, she would easily believe anything she had heard or seen
He knew he would make her his, no matter the time nor energy 

It was easy for him to pretend to be prim and proper 
Just a mask to don in order to dupe his doctor
Circumventing the system that couldn’t save him 
He was as he always had been and would be
In constant pain and agony with no desire for sympathy
Just in need of some freedom from his prison and medication
Meditation and mantras had given him the sentiment of a design
On how to inhibit the screaming, and maybe even end it

Four years plotting and planning the perfect moment of promise
A fire formed from a single flamed fueled from an accelerant 
It raced through the halls, up the walls, over the ceiling, killing all the residents
Eighty-eight inmates and staff burned alive in what felt like an instant 
Such little time to search through the bodies, looking for a single person
He found her on the fourth clinging to the bathroom faucet 
He lost his virginity to the burnt corpse of Nurse Nancy 
To his amazed mind, he was astonished to find, the screaming was silenced



just a note I cannot reduce the font so the lines fit without overlapping as they 
do in stanza two

Copyright © Nathan D.

Details | Rhyme | |

A LullabyTo The Lost

Life and cigarettes burn to fast.
We waste are time.
So within the moment you bask.

A pretty face has to age.
Every story meets  it's final page.
When life breaks you over its cost.
Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost.

The lights in the street hide all but the truth my 
dear.
You can act.
But you can never mask your  fear.

In dark rooms you sell all but your soul.
A wicked moment a stolen encounter.
All things take there toll.

That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm 
to be cold.
A secret that the bitter have already told.

Can you wash away there stench as from 
the past you are tossed.
In dark corners blood stained angles 
sing a lullaby  to the lost.

Is this hell or a nightmare  that knows no end.
A cell to most.
To others the only refuge inwhich they 
can depend.

she falls to the floor a lost look needle  
in arm.
Most will rememeber a doomed fool.
Others her wreckless charm.

She was  a junkie  and a easy lay.
More bones are broken.
Over words others say.

She sold flesh but payed the ultimate
cost.
In a dingy corner of th world.
Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo

Details | Free verse | |

In the Dark of the Strand

Marquees bright, and neon lights, where crowds line up for movie night
We're holding hands, we're in 'The Strand', red velvet carpets guide us in

Popcorn smokes, .. drinking cokes,...  cracking jokes with Bing and Hope
Lamour's along, in her sarong,... With luscious lips, and cigarettes, 
She fills ashtrays with smoking tips, and tosses guys like poker chips


         'Movietone'  intrudes with news, which puts us in somber mood
         Third-Reich goosesteps  march again,  ... an evil presence in the wind...


Cary Grant , (a news reporter),  loves his girl, and his typewriter
"His Girl Friday", plot is witty, sometimes crazy.  But Cary loves this ditzy lady.... 

William Powell and Mryna Loy..., Asta barks, and finds a toy, ...a ploy? a clue?,....
...an earring gold.  The mystery is clearly solved.--  A crimson sun, is rising cold!


        Movietone in black and white,... graphic scenes, where soldiers die


Another night, suspense on chart.  'Correspondent' ,  Joel McCrea. 
Saves Lorraine, and claims the Day.  BUY WAR BONDs !! They'll pave the way

Bogart, Bergman bring to light, a valiant flght , within their grasp
Airline ticket, in her hand, they must part, and do what's right, no questions asked

----

          It's movie night, but you aren't here, a troopship took you far from here
           Allied troops are moving tanks.  I wait for you..God give me strength




       I'm in the Strand, within the dark,  there's no one here to hold my hand

       I'm all alone...........I heard the news....................You left it all in Anzio




_____________________________________
For Contest Chopped III Sponsored by Craig Cornish
11/23/14

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Rhyme | |

You Know I Love You

Winds may howl,
Wild animals growl,
The forest grows cold, 
For I am lonesome and old
As the sun peaks through the clouds, 
I hear your soft, young voice so loud!
And though you speak dead man's lines,
You speak them with majesty divine
As I am wrapped in  my woe,
I only want you to know...
...that roses die black and violets lose blue,
But I will never die
And you know I love you!

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Rhyme | |

All That Refuse To See

All That Refuse To See


Your ears shut wide eyes up tight
a menagerie sits in absent light
Time and reason are out of sight
stonecold now is courage's might!

Your eyes embrace a newfound cave
even logic can not your mind save
in blindness you are now a slave
treading a path to shallow grave!

Your screams raise no great alarm
dead plants harvest on your farm
No more shall love be your charm 
chained legs match each dead arm!

Your last days filled with cries
fruits set onto your many lies
Dark clouds moan in your skies
Heart rots as soul slowly dies!

Your death was an incoming tide
bled from arrogant false pride
Fait accompli no man can hide
none succeed, many have tried!

Robert  Lindley
01, 23, 1979

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Free verse | |

Forgotten By Tomorrow

She stands at the edge of the precipice,
looking down towards her future.
The last tears that she will ever cry,
falling from her eyes, 
then falling into oblivion.
She watches them drop 
as they disappear forever.
Yet, she laughs in the face of death.
Would it really matter if she took the leap?
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

The wind blowing at her back,
pushes her to the edge.
Almost agreeing with her final decision,
and encouraging her to jump.

A thousand thoughts and memories
racing through her mind.

Her first day of school.
Her tenth birthday party.
The lonely, awkward days of her teenage years.
The day she discovered poetry.
The moment she first saw him.
The day she thought that she was worth something.
The day when all of that became a lie.

Every memory 
that never made the pages of a history book.
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

She exists to no one but herself.
In the blink of an eye, she decides her fate.
Her feet leave the ground,
and yet, she did not fall.
Out of nowhere he appeared,
and carefully grabbed her hand.
Pulling her back to reality,
saving her from the brink of disaster.
He held her, as her tears stained his jacket.
Old tears of sadness,
mixed with new tears of happiness.

She was remembered by yesterday.
Before she was forgotten by tomorrow.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

Details | Narrative | |

New Road

In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.

The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Home behind,
World ahead...

Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Very deep,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...

Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Singing by,
Darkness rising,
Vanishing light,
Hollow flourishing,
Going by,
World ahead,
Home behind...

Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Beyond mountains,
Beyond stones,
Standing strong,
Wandering lost,
World ahead,
Home behind,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...

Copyright © Ruben A. Hernandez Diaz

Details | Ballad | |

Disturbed Child

That disturbed child
The teen girl with no friends, 
and is rejected by her loved ones
She feels broken inside,
like theres no other choice
She takes the iron razor, 
she puts it to her arm and hopes the pain will fade,
but in the end it only makes her feel worse
She does this to herself not because she is sad, 
but because she doesn't think any one cares
She thinks 
What if I put this razor to my throat,
and ended my life
Would they care then?
She feels like no one cares 
What she doesn't realize is, 
if she died a river of tears would come,
even faster then the blood would run from her
If she only knew life can be brighter 
If she would only see, 
that she is loved
That disturbed child, 
We miss her
and theres no getting her back
What could we have done
Was there any changing her mind
Only God knows

Copyright © Trevor Bain

Details | Free verse | |

over and over agin

sometimes i talk to myself, 
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all. 
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
FAT
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister, 
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
repeating,
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some unique
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it. 
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room, 
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy, 
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
no
is daddy raping her?
no
is she doing drugs?
not alot
is anyone beating her?
pass...
did anyone molest her? 
pass....
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
more... 
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse. 
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
hated herself
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses 
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
FAT!!!!!!
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
FAT!
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat, 
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why? 
because daddy yelled 
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
smoking weed
doing nothing,
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
 her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
her mom,
her sister,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
 and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
and why? 
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...

Copyright © cassie hellberg

Details | Light Poetry | |

50 Shades of

50 shades of therapy
50 shades of restraining orders
50 shades of rejection
50 shades of addiction
50 shades of suicide
50 shades of rainy days
50 shades of cloudy ways
50 shades of jazz and blues
50 shades of painful memories
50 shades of wartime wounds
50 shades of political doom
50 shades of curtains and drapes
50 shades of a lovers disgrace
50 shades of cereal box tops
50 shades of graveyard graves
50 shades of wistful thoughts
50 shades of pure silk white
50 shades of legal fights
50 shades of everyday light
50 shades of tasteful delights
50 shades of pure sheer fright
50 shades of milking cow
50 shades of milking an idea
50 shades of comical prose
50 shades of sunglasses
X 2
Cause I am tired

50 shades of age

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Narrative | |

The Rose

Once bloomed a rose so young and fair
With dark brown eyes and long black hair

Beside her be a tall dark tree
Whose branches stretch to smother thee

Too close beside the shadowy bark
That soon begins to leave its mark

She cries for help, but none shall hear
Her thorns too sharp, who’d dare go near?

To save this rose, who’d risk their life?
With naught to gain but pain and strife

Alone, afraid, she lays to rest
Her heart beats low inside her chest

And with the hour growing near
She sheds her final grieving tear

And so the rose soon falls asunder
Her final day, eternal slumber

She lies beside the old dark tree
The only one who mourns for thee

Copyright © Nina Hernandez

Details | Quatern | |

Silver Strands

Her dark hair, laced with silver strands,
cascaded once with sable glint,
then lost (with drifting of the sands
of time) the chasteness of its tint.

It still grows long, but she has kept
her dark hair laced with silver strands
pulled back, attractively upswept,
at times enwrapped in stylish bands.

She misses days of few demands,
the ragtop down, her locks wind-tossed.
Her dark hair laced with silver strands
reminds her now of all she's lost. . .

She combs it out in dying light
of dusk and dreams a lover's hands
touch something soft as moon-streaked night,
her dark hair, laced with silver strands.


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Rhyme | |

Don't ask me to apologize

Don't ask me to apologize for being the monster inside
I refuse to set any agony i have aside
Don't ask me to torch out the fuse i have growing
There is so much torment behind this face without anyone knowing
Don't ask me to unmask this demon i enshrine deep in the dark
It fuels my spirit, whats left of me creating a tiny spark
Don't ask me to let go of the past
All the exploitation has been passed
Don't ask me to neglect the flashbacks you put into my head
So many wounds on my arms from the times you made me bled
Don't ask me to excuse all the sin you created
Cause my heart is buried distant enough it has to be gated
Don't ask me to uncoil and live a little
For how many times you beat me till my bones became brittle
Don't ask me to not dread all of this
I'd have to count the times of deaths i'd nearly miss
You've made me the monster
now don't ask me to apologize

Copyright © nastoshia siedlecki

Details | Free verse | |

embattled

Pain covered by beauty,
Standing behind a mirror of myself, 
Cut deeply by the shattering pieces as my true self emerges.
Behold the truth that lies behind my placid eyes,
The heart wrenching pain hidden by my laugh,
I am what this world has made me to be,
Cruel, Angry, Torn.
Seeking answers in my mind,
I feel there is no tangible hope.
I cannot grasp what i have never trully believed to be there.
I can only sit and wait for the inevitable,
I can only sit and wait with no one but my shadow beside me,
Daunting me,
Reminding me how dark this world can be.
Embittered at what my once joyful life has turned into,
A blaze of hate and sorrow consumes me entirely, 
Until I am forced to relinquish the pain and tears built up inside me.
At that moment I am rendered helpless,
I open my eyes only to find myself embattled.
These enemies of mine are not human but the result of what they have caused.

Copyright © suzanne hoyt

Details | Free verse | |

Tell Me Things

You tell me there are things that you can’t say
		Without bruising your tongue, some things
That you repeat in your head like videos of blurred suicides.
		Each face the bullet goes through resembles your own.
You tell me there are things that you can’t say
		Without a bible in your hand, some things
That you’ve forgotten.
		Missing pieces of a puzzle that are found.
You tell me there are things that you can’t say
		Without touching yourself, some things
That you catch yourself talking in the middle of the night.
		Each spilled secret staining your bed sheet.
You tell me there are things that you can’t say
		Without you crying, some things
That are better lost than found


So
You throw away the missing pieces
		Of a puzzle.
You throw away 
		The bible.
You throw away
		The sex toys.
You throw away
		Love.

You say things that make you unhappy, like things
	Better seen in the dark, or maybe things
That you wished you didn’t know.

So
You collect the missing pieces
		Of another puzzle.
You collect
		Broken promises.
You collect
		Four-leaf clovers
With the fourth leaf plucked out

You tell me things that I’ve heard before
		From your own mouth, some things
That I wish you’ve forgotten.


You say you can’t tell me what I already know
	So you don’t say anything
When we open up the cadavers of drowned infants.
There are a hundred babies down in the lake
And you don’t even say a single word to me.
One of them is your own.
	So you open me up instead
And tell me the lake is yours.


Copyright © Austere Rex Gamao

Details | I do not know? | |

My Dark Prison

To hear the woodpecker
To see the sun set 
To smell the lavender as it blooms
To feel another’s touch
No more

To be locked in this pitch black prison
To never hear a child’s sweet laugh
For no sound comes through these atrocious walls
In this prison I sit

Locked away for sins I have never committed
The walls closing in on my every detestable moment
Left only to my thoughts
The memories, they haunt me

To feel the wind flowing through my hair
To hear the distant bells: a church
To see, just once more, a bright starry sky
My memories, they haunt me

I open my eyes, so heavy are they
I breathe in deeply, this putrid smell
No one have I seen, though the ages pass
Left to my thoughts, these unbearable memories
In this dark room I sit
As yet another tear hit’s the floor
The sound is swallowed by the silence
Once again it is no more

Copyright © Alison Rogers

Details | Free verse | |

The missing me

With shadows in the dark,
Facing atrocities of the cold,
Yet drenched in the sweat,
I walk down the street

Am bound to follow what others passed by,
Crime it is as if else I try,
Tears follow the path of my cheek,
And it’s the only way my eyes speak,
Lips of mine when turn dry.

I smile I really try to,
To be happy as if I was made to,
I speak of something I don’t know
But there’s what my heart knows,
That’s what my eyes ponder,
And that’s what untold but true,
Yes I know,
Yes I do,
I am missing me in me,
Yes I know,
Yes I do,
I am missing being me……….

Copyright © Shiraz Iqbal

Details | Free verse | |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia

Copyright © Laura Hamilton

Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek

Details | I do not know? | |

Still In Progress

How can I be selfless without being used? 
How can I be demanding without being so rude? 
How can I open up without closing back down? 
How can I speak if you don't hear a sound? 
How can I trust without being betrayed? 
Yet how could I leave... even after you stayed? 
But how can you love me when I won't let you in? 
So many questions.... where do I begin? 
-------- 
Memories now blurred, flying through my mind…… 
Now, I’m trying to repress the days of being youthful and blind. 
Every morning I pull on my armor, right from within, 
Preparing for a war, that I intend, to win. 
If my heart is my comrade and my mind is the enemy, 
Then in the midst of this battlefield, 
Life is the remedy…
 --- 
Trying to stay sane, knowing that although this is temporary, nothing is vain… 
Learning that there is always a purpose and people will try to corrupt us, and bring you great shame… 
Being told that ‘Victory isn't given to he who starts the race the strongest, but he who endures until the end.’ 
Trying to suspend you from learning to depend... on yourself, 
instead making you depend on the wealth, 
Of someone who doesn't even know who he is, 
while you’re grasping the stealth of your true identity, in your right hand, in your heart, the knowledge…
Never been withheld 
… 
.. 
. 
Feeling the world come crashing down on you, compacting into a mist of air so cool, 
The breeze passing right through, right into the depths of your pores, to ensue, 
The burning and broken and fragile pieces of the inhabitants of the earth from your birth til' now.. 
Physically becoming everything that you breathe, touch, conceive, munch, perceive, every aroma... 
And every great or insignificant trauma, reflecting off your skin oh so temporarily, the mark so paper thin… 
Physically, THAT is what you are… 
Because we only see the physical, right? 
Yet, behind every movie is there not a director… a cast? 
And behind every painting is there not an artist, combining colors and lines so vast? 
And behind every child is there not a journey, a past? 
...
That you did not walk, yet you know that it’s there, not by sight, scent, taste, touch, or hearing... But something inside you, that says it makes sense, KNOWS that all of that is there, 
KNOWING
...
..
.

Copyright © Angel C

Details | Narrative | |

The Empty Tissue Box

My heart was in such pain
I felt like I was going to go insane
I just don't know what to do 
And my eyes full of tears that distort my view

I fell to my knees and felt the urge
My muscle tighten and pin needles struck me like a surge
My body was warm and with feelings so confused
My mind felt sadness had fused

I could not conquer my fears
I just sat down and fell into tears
When some close to you passes on
It felt like a warmth has gone

So I raised my hand towards a box that was empty with no tissue
I first was embarrass and had a little bit of issue
All my friends hugged me and said sorry for your loss
So now I cry in my bed and toss


April 14, 2013

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast

Details | Haiku | |

a day of dark rain

a foreboding sound

          echoes in a thunderstorm....

                   mourners at a grave
                               --
                  
                   a torrent of rain

           muffles the sound of crying....

watching crows scatter

                              --
one wet crow hunches

          on branch of the brittle oak....

                  dark clouds hover low







    ~           ~             ~               ~
For Skat's "Dark Rain" haiku contest

                                            

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Rhyme | |

A Soul Awakened

She is the muse to her own sorrow; She is the digger of her grave. She is the painter of her ocean view and every fatal wave. She is the shadow of her Father; She is the darkness in your sight. She is the night without the stars surrounding pale moonlight. She is the music with no words; She is sweet love without the reason. She is your dreamer with submission cold by warmth with every season. She is your pet with cold intentions; She is your baby scared and shaken. She is the bold and pure- the lost and found, She is a soul awakened.

Copyright © Dana Smith

Details | Rhyme | |

Her Masterpiece Is Her Story-part two

(please read "Her Masterpiece Is Her Story" before reading the second part. It'll make more sense and probably be more enjoyable!)

The girl who has beautiful scars,
And the boy with marks of strength,
Are now separated by distance,
And that is causing some teenage angst.

The girl wonders how the boy is doing.
Her paintbrush calls her name.
The two can't talk right now,
And she feels she's to blame.

The girl's best friend is lonely,
And she isn't much better.
The only way honesty is revealed,
is through a heart felt letter.

Her scars are fading away,
Everyone knows her secret, so she can't add to the art.
She's wishing she could draw more cuts,
At night the voices in her mind take over her heart.

Her masterpiece is disappearing,
Her artwork is going away.
"What caused you to do this!??!" her family asks.
"I...I hate myself." is all she can say.

She's trying to be okay,
If not for herself then for her friends,
If there's one thing she can't take,
It's their fatal ends.

But she doesn't know how the boy is,
She doesn't know his feeling,
Her mind is going crazy, 
Her sanity is reeling.

Since she doesn't know how the boy is doing,
Her anxious mind is filled with worry,
Her demons have told her something.
They're telling her the worst horror story.

Her masterpiece is fading, 
I've told you this before.
Her scars are going away,
She wants to make more.

But she doesn't make any.
For the sake of those she loves.
She restrains from her paintbrush.
Even though it fits like a glove.

Her story is continuing, 
Her painting isn't dry.
But her canvas is even more,
down upon her thigh.

Maybe she'll erase some drawings.
She's trying to be okay. 
She actually doesn't want to get better.
But what am I supposed to say?

Be honest and say she doesn't want that?
Be truthful and say she doesn't care?
Because in her life right now,
Having no motivation? She wouldn't dare!

She misses the life she had before.
She didn't mind hiding her own part of her life.
She would just cope her own way.
She'd cope by using a knife.

Maybe one day she'll draw on an actual paper,
Or paint with an actual paintbrush,
But right now with her anxiety,
She feels that there is no rush.

Don't worry about the girl.
She just cries every night.
But she has to keep going,
Her best friend is in near sight.

It'll be alright everyone,
I'll keep you up to date,
The girl's painting will continue.
If that's the artist's fate. 

Copyright © Madison Marie

Details | Light Poetry | |

I Hate You All

Yes you, and you, and you over there
The nerve you all have, it’s sickening
What right do you have to leave this world?
Why do you all die on me?
What is life that you toss it away?
Old and sick, humppph excuses I say
I have had enough
No one must leave
Stop, I command time to STOP
Are my tears not enough?
You all conspire against me, I know
To add me to your collection
Of death
Why? Why? Why?
All your kind smiles, laughter and love
You make the world shine, and give hope
Only to disappear to the afterlife
Is this not cruelty?
I beg of you all, do not go
I have not the strength to carry on
Here, as you all dwindle away
Leaving me to ponder my own mortality
Alone, alone I sit, knowing romance will be kindled once more
Death will come to offer me a final kiss
Whom will hate me?

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Verse | |

A Starfish In Her Hair

The tide rises within me soaked with failure's longing.
The sea siren's reach, out across the land to me.
The moon added its pull and speaks of not belonging.
I am drawn on astral screams to the deep dark sea.

small waves submerge
my pale ankles to my knees --
gulls cry

The weight of clothes so cumbersome impedes,
arching down, I let go, each bit of cloth from me.
Salt sea in, the salt sea out, my life concedes
choosing to leave, this go round, in the deep dark sea.

open eyes stare
into a silty brown brine --
bubbles rise

Sinking-down, passively, sadness abating 
Strands of silvered seaweed, chill, gently beckoning me
my limbs entwined in death's sweet embrace abiding
minnows greet me with a kiss, from the deep dark sea.

starfish 
in her hair --
fog horn
 

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Rhyme | |

No-Name No: 18

The world burns apart
like paper over candle
the only breaking point 
that this planet couldn't handle.
Something turns to nothing
and that nothing's what remains,
that nothing turns to something
and that something turns to days.
Days are made of moments
and moments; made of you
moments make up hours
and together we make two.
We co-create a world
and pretend we're here forever,
let's break apart the pieces
come on, let's tear it down together!
This world was made to murder us
this world was made of fire
we were born to join a homicide
we were born pre-expired.
Time didn't want us
but we pretend we're here forever,
let's break apart the pieces
come on, let's tear it down together!
Our minds are vast and lonely
instant pleasure keeps us lifted
it's no wonder every human
has to leave this world addicted.
God says He wants us
but we pretend we're here forever,
lets break apart the pieces
come on, let's tear it down together!
You're simple and distracting
I say "I love you" out of habit
I only care for you on impulse,
sorry, I'm simply just an addict.
I'm simply just a human
simply made to last forever
our purpose in this world is simple;
let's tear it down,
you and I.

Copyright © Patrick Farley IV