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Best Cry Poems

Below are the all-time best Cry poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of cry poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Cry Poem | |

Umbrella

*I Will Cry*

If this world really mattered,
Why does it bleed?

I could tell you how much I love you,
But, that will never heal the pain.
I am never at peace.
Every day I cry for grace. 
Every day my tears engrave a large hole.
A rich perfume redolent of rain- 
-the only stain in my soul.

What has become of the sun?
Where have all the stars gone?

I am a sinner! 
A tapper on the roof,
I fell without angel wings!
A small ripple that splashed into the pavement crack.
I couldn't be saved!

I am a lonely bard
I have no song to sing.
This empty ballad is my home.
A feathers against the dying wind- 
-my only expression.

I will cry'
Raindrops from the sky.
Tears from a simple narrow-minded girl,
Water wept into this sorrowful world.

I will cry’
A view you can’t erase,
A window you can’t shut; 
Tears you can't brush.

I will cry'
A river that flows into the night of days.

I will cry' 
like a child, and nobody can take that away.

I will cry- once more...
No one will ever care, 
That I cried!

PS..... Please remember the smell of earth after rain.

by;PD

Details | Cry Poem | |

Crying River

Crying River (The Untold Ballad) 

Undercover waters of rain dashing
The children are cold, no longer splashing
Tragic sobs, epic force of the mountain rain
Beautiful as it may seem, -shallow basin 

She cries, a tune, 
Mocking the Maple lands, a beautiful tune
Crooked Cornwall, she steams with the moon
Oceanic dreams, monsoon season, she swoon's
Frozen, dead, ice skating rink
Her winds, Pretty Chains O' Lake 
Wet and Wild, the Elk drinks from its garden
Water falls from the lids of Jordan
Beautiful as it may seem with open curtain

When the ocean succeeds away from the sea
She's awake during winter's rain torrents and breeze
Lost in the mud's of Bellaire's heartache,
River Blues, icy cold naps, bayous shutting up
Racing rivers crying by the western gutter
Silent, bells chime in the Black Mallard waters
Streams, blowing and drying dew droplets
Little rapid tears, everything spotless
Sugar, Swan waves down by Devils Creek
Listen to the thunder bay rolling deep
Beautiful as it may seem, she weeps

A northern world with streaks of falling rain
Pretty running white hair pane
A weather vane, snow dangles above her domain 
Beautiful crying winds
In the Eyes of Michigan

~SKAT~

Details | Cry Poem | |

Tissue Box

like visitors from outer space
they came with tears, and lined the sidewalk
long in face, and arms embracing
some (I have no inkling) who
they were or why they felt compelled to come here
dozens came with casseroles
a few with flowers, wads of tissues
tender words of helpless mutterings
many acts of generous offerings

don't get me wrong, I watched the suffering
expressed in words or acts of kindness
I watched it all, and felt the love
did not dismiss the warm compassion
returned it all, with pure compliance
a thankful heart, a swollen throat

I hugged these strangers at the door
to comfort them, who shed their tears
upon my shoulder, offered them
a place to share their sympathies
a place to spend their mercy, pure

                but, this was my child who suffered loss
                impossible........I can't express it

protected from the very start, by
loving hands, her dad's and mine, 
we watched her grow, and let her go
she grew from the vine ....into a rose
but life composed a tragedy with goals
beyond our reach...beyond our wildest dreams
and left her with a loss beyond control

like visitors from outer space we watch
as others come, and others go
they blow into their tissue wads
and empty the boxes one by one
and cry with us,  and then they all go home

do we cry........?  Oh no, not yet...
instead we smile a grateful smile
and thank them kindly for the while
and for the ways they share their love
but we can't cry into our own clenched wad
of tissue from the tissue box
she needs us to be strong, somehow
and so that is the way it is, we vow...to hold back all the tears for now


                for, this was my child who suffered loss
                impossible........I can't express it
      __________________________________________





4/12/13

Details | Cry Poem | |

KEEP IT REAL:IF I COULD CRY

if i maurice yvonne could cry i’d spread my tears eternal over your  ( say it, dare to be bold) naked body (then she could taste your pain) but i can’t shed tears anymore (tell her why) (you need her to know) (no i can't she'll leave me) (get out of my head) my mind beats differently now i have seen the doctor i'm not well...kind of (you're blowing it) (can't you see her face) (quiet i'm trying to think) it's not like a normal doctor if i could feel (you use to. you did) i would touch you with the hands of a silk maker gentle and caring and with purpose. the doctor. my physiatrist. i was diagnosed as bipolar  (there you got it out) (was that so hard?) leave me alone will you no i'm sorry not you they gave me drugs  i don't feel like i use to not the mountain not the waterfall (give it a break just speak plain) (ok yes i will) i can't cry any more i have no sex drive it's the pills if i... oh my God  if i... i would and more i’d run beyond to hold you i would the pills they make me docile you'll laugh when you hear this because you are always with me (don't get all mushy with her) i miss you  (ok bud you did it) (let's just move on) i have no answers, but i know what you're feeling you want us to be romantic way back (i can't listen to this) (i am out of here) before being medicated i was passionate  so very passionate not anymore  i'll tell you though something’s got to give my god  something’s got to give.
Maurice Yvonne September 11 2014

Details | Cry Poem | |

Will You Tie My Shoes When I Grow Old

You were beautiful, 
my tiny child, 
wrapped tightly in my arms, 
close to my heart.
I listened to you breathing.
I counted your fingers
and your toes.
Helpless, 
you cried out to me
and I loved you
with every ounce of my soul.

Will you hear me
when I cry out? 
Will you hold me close
as I held you then? 

I remember the day
You took your first step.
There was no stopping you.
Your feet gave you freedom
to explore the world
like never before
but danger lurked.
I opened those doors anyway, 
cautiously, 
and introduced
you to the world.
Where will you be
when my legs
no longer run? 
no longer work? 
Will you realize
that I love
freedom too? 

I laugh
about that day
you first tied your shoe.
We tried and tried
to get that rabbit
in that hole
and you finally did it.
You pointed your toes
for everyone to see
how proud you were.

I am proud too, 
of my writing
and my drawing, 
of my needlework
and my cooking.
But my hands are beginning to ache
and my fingers will not bend.
I will lose the things
that make me proud
except for you.
Hopefully not you.
Will you let me
brag on you? 
Even tell wild stories
that are a bit beyond the truth? 
Will you be proud of me too? 

I waved good-bye
that morning when you left
on that large, yellow bus.
I was so scared.
I know you were too.
You waved at me bravely
through the dusty window
but I saw the water
forming in your eyes.
You came home, however, 
full of pride and joy.
You sang the alphabet song
and got most of it right.
You practiced for hours
until you could sing it
even in your sleep.

But 
I'm afraid.
I forgot
whether I took
my pills today or not.
I forgot
if I told this story before.
I even forgot once
who you were
and it terrified me.
My mind
is my treasure
the only thing I have left, 
and I heard you make
fun of me
for not remembering
that I gave you the
same gift as last year.
Will you love me
when I no longer
know who I am? 

You came home blushing
from the glow of
your first kiss.
Your first love, 
the one you thought was real.
You talked about him non-stop.
You changed for him. You gave.
But he left you anyway
for a blue-eyed girl
and I held you
while you cried for him.

I too have a
broken heart.
The love of my life
left me after
fifty-six years.
He left me here
to live life on my own
while he moved on
to another realm
And I cry for him too.
I long for his shoulder
and strong embrace.
I feel betrayed
because he and I
made a deal
that we would never
leave the other alone.
Yet I am alone
sitting in an echoing house
with no hands to hold.

You welcomed her home today- 
your tiny baby girl.
She has your eyes
and possibly your toes.
I see you counting them
as they roll me
into the room.
You finally came
to visit.
It has been a while.

You look up at me
with tears in your eyes
and ask
almost desperately, 

"Will she tie my
shoes
when I get old? "

Details | Cry Poem | |

Bedtime-Footle

Child cries.....

.....Mom sighs







Footle Contest
08/11/2014

Details | Cry Poem | |

Pitch Black Sun

Inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's "Annabel Lee"

?????????

       Pitch Black Sun

I stand tall though, weak and weary
Mask my eyes for they are teary
Functioning proper,  but thinking un-clearly
In regards to struggles they don't know

The sun is out,  but it's dark as night
I've long since given up this fight
A dark vessel,  merely reflecting light
To disguise feelings I can't show

Would they think me lost for mad
If I dare share the thoughts I've had
For surely, it may end bad
They'd neglect to understand me

He pens me letters,  passed through time
No poet better skilled at crafting rhyme
To reach, into depth, this heart of mine
In this city,  city near the sea

Did the dark master, somehow know
Of these feelings,  I dare not show
Or from his pens, did they grow 
To reflect his spirit inside of me

Can embers still burn, once turned to ash
Blow through time,  escaping the past, 
To create a love,  a respect to last
Can any of this be? 

As sitting under the darkest sun,  I'm left to wonder
Is he the one, to keep me from going under
For upon his pain,  I often ponder
If I was his Annabel Lee

A love left missed,  a denied last kiss,  oh how broken was he
Sworn to her soul,  unable to control,  the fate of Annabel Lee
Separated by death,  death of love, in their kingdom by the sea
Leaving me to question, my direction, and did Poe pen for me

A bond formed over centuries
Leaving great mystery
Of the truth of history
And what it all could be

So as I stand tall yet weak and weary
Mask my eyes for they are teary
I am suddenly thinking clearly
They shall never know

With a sun as dark as night
Me, merely reflecting light
To keep my sadness out of sight
I speak to my poor Dead Poe
®

9-11-14
Katei - Kathryn Ramirez 

Pt 2 is posted. 

Details | Cry Poem | |

Wearying for you too

An answer to Frank L Stantons  'Wearyin' for you' as Robert Lindley requested.

Wearying for you too

I’m wearying for you as well
Each day is like some kind of Hell
I’m missing you with all my heart
I cannot stand us being apart
I want to be there, home with you
It seems like crying’s all I do

My love, I also feel this way
It gets worse from day to day
People pass me, and they look
They see I’m looing so forsook
They just don’t know how I love you
It seems like crying’s all I do.

I miss that chair, I really do
Sitting there, just me and you
With fire alight, heating the room
And you and I we seem to bloom
Oh Darling I’m so lonesome too
It seems like crying’s all I do

I take a walk in the city streets
I say hello to folk I meet
But there’s no life within my voice
I’m miserable I have no choice
Because my love, I’m missing you
It seems like crying’s all I do.

I go back home in the dark of night
And still I’m feeling far from bright
I go to bed, and try to sleep
As lonely night, it hears me weep
I lie awake the whole night through
It seems like crying’s all I do

The long night over, the dawn is here
It’s still the same, I miss you Dear
The birds they give no joy at all
This loneliness oh, it’s so cruel
I feel so down, I’m missing you
It seems that crying’s all I do.

I’m coming home, can’t take no more
My bags all packed, I’m out the door
I need to see your smile again
This loneliness drives me insane
I don’t want this I just need you
It seems that crying’s all I do

28 July 2014 @ 1230hrs.





Details | Cry Poem | |

That Day, A Life Crushed

That Day, Life Crushed



I was resting on a lake dock that was in deep decay
it ran fifty yards out into the seamless water
that day my baby brother had went to swim with his friends
a normal summer day that shone with splendor
and peaceful was the soft blowing wind
only fate was awake and moving ever foward


there I was in peaceful solitude , resting
gazing at the lapping waves as they spoke
ignorant of what had taken place only moments before
the passing of a young and promising life, my brother


sun still beamed, wind still blew and life changed
a truck came racing across the bridge
I saw my best friend waving at me franticly
then I heard, I knew tragedy had befallen somebody
somebody I loved dearly


Moments later, the force of truth crushed me into a ball
it was as I feared, a death, an unimaginable horror
my baby brother was dead, my fourteen year old baby brother 
gone, gone , gone!


Electric current had destroyed his life
destroyed my life, sent me into a seven year rage
I said my goodbyes in a quiet rage and vowed that God, 
God would pay for this!
And so it began a terrible journey into a dark abyss 
one that consumed and slowly ate my soul
my soul it ate with relish and glee


I became a punisher of God!
Yes, such misery did I heap out by the bucket
by the ton and ate it's glory until-

Seven years later, light came into me as I slept
I woke one morning to find that the one punished was ME!
God had told me but I refused to hear
Now I heard and that truth crushed me again!


The road back took time but seven long years was over!
life returned, joy returned!
Majestic love returned to reclaim it's treasure-- my soul!


My soul rejoices to this day,
this day I see God stayed with me as I ran away!

I, he that runs no MORE!

Robert J. Lindley 06-30-2014

My first ever write about my brother, Billy Joe Lindley
fourteen year old and the girls adored him,
that summer electrocuted by a faulty electric pump at a 
friend's house by the river. 
1976, I think about him every day since, he was an angel compared 
to me and why, why did I live!

Details | Cry Poem | |

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.


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