Loss Poems | Examples of Loss Poetry

Once, I was young— soft, unguarded, untouched by the world's slow erosion. But life whispered its ruin, and now I move carefully, each step weighed beneath old echoes. I once gave love like rain— reckless, generous, blind. But the years, with their quiet cruelty, taught me the art of withholding. I've come to see— some hearts can’t hold what we pour into them. Some hands fumble...

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Recently, I have felt awfully starved. I look around to see everyone filled  to the brim with love. The aroma of romance makes me want  to lose my mind. I'm happy my friends are well fed. They deserve it. Served on a silver plate, a plentiful diet. One that will keep them full forever. But me on the other hand? My teeth have gone soft, and my...

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This headache is killing me. Beating through my skull, this throbbing pain. It's so constant and that might be the worst part. Sitting alone in my bed slowly dying right in front of the ghosts. They find it to be so disrespectful, Me wasting my youth alone in the dark. They judge me with scornful and familiar faces. They almost, just almost,...

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There’s nothing at all that I’m needing and little that I’m wanting, no tasks I find too daunting~~ but the world is bleeding. The hungry near and far need feeding; the homeless...

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It’s been three years.? And I can breathe again— ?most days.? I smile without faking it,? laugh without guilt.? I’ve grown.? I’ve lived.? I’ve kept going. But then,?a photo falls out of a drawer, ?or a song finds its way through the static,? and suddenly I’m back—? not broken,? but bruised.? Not drowning, ?but still feeling the weight? of everything I can’t say to you. It doesn’t hurt like it used...

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memories to last a lifetime ~ all that's left...

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When you steal, it’s more than an object you take— You sever a thread in the soul you forsake. That bracelet? A gift from a mother now gone. That wallet? A dream that someone leaned on. Behind every item lies a story untold, A piece of a life that was cherished and...

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their faces, their laughs, the echoes of our past never leave they hide beneath the cover of everyday life, waiting for that moment when the mood drops and the days turn wet and gloomy. they appear again, just outside my line of sight, whispering memories of everything we ever did together. my mind tells me they’re gone to let go, to move on. i tell you, i tell myself: until...

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My chest holds echoes none can hear, A hush of thoughts that won’t appear. What once was warm now drifts like mist, A weight unseen, too dense to lift. Each fracture blooms a quieter scar, Where bitter seeds still grow afar. No shore, no flame, no sense of tide— Just vacant halls I roam inside. By day I wear a borrowed face, By night...

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She left no echo, made no sound, Just folded time without a frown. No curtain call, no loud applause— Just grace departing without pause. A hand once warm now gently still, A final breath, a resting will. And yet, her presence lingers on— In morning light and dusk till dawn. Soft is the way the faithful part— A silent hymn within the heart. No need...

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They bore the winds of time as they rose from arid lands. They sun poked past one peak while my work crew waited to move to another place on the highway, and we knew the day would fade. We knew highways must always be mended and the same with our lives. We spoke in hushed voices among these hills made when the earth shifted. Somewhere beyond rested a...

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Coming back home, after a long stint south, I passed the blue sign on the turnpike that reads “Massachusetts Welcomes You.” Under the “Welcomes,” some Mayflower blooms, And a chickadee perches there, under the "You.” I’d seen this bird busying our woods as a boy, Seen its black helmet with small streaks of white, Flitting from thickets to rest on a branch, Or...

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When something is missing, when someone is gone, there is no light It’s not just the absence of sunshine, not just a starlight deceit It’s more like the aching of pain and sensation, the darkness burns ...

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Things Missing Somewhere in This House My birth bertificate… A box of needed, new bank checks… Both of our wedding rings… My Waterman fountain pen… After 4 decades, at least 3 doz. of Jim’s odd socks & 2 doz. Of mine… 2 Roku remotes, 1 somewhere upstairs & 1 here downstairs… (Worrying) The hand-written letters I received from...

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I am from sitting in the front row church pew I never wanted to be in twice. The genuine smiles in the photos on the memory board were oh-so-different from The ones we plastered on at the American Legion and the Irish pub There we gulped bottomless Shirley Temples and spent twenty dollars on darts. All to distract ourselves...

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