Best Sadbeautiful Poems
A child
No more than 12 years old
Sees images of women
Thin
Beautiful
Rich
Wanted
She looks in the mirror
She doesn't see the image
Her body doesn't fit the mold
Movies, TV and magazines
Tell her she is not what they want
She is not thin
She is not beautiful
Everyday her eyes cry as she looks at who she is
The perfect her hidden within
The beautiful soul they will not let her see
She diets
She starves
Still she does not fit the mold
She feels unloved
Unwanted
Eating less than a cracker a day
Throwing up the scant food she eats
Her body changes
Wasting away
They make her up
She wears a beautiful white dress
They close the lid
Denied the perfect her
The person she should have been
She lies in eternal rest
But she is loved
She is wanted
She will be missed
The fear of her looks
Became thorns in her side
Her images were shattered
Because the mirrors decide
This beautiful girl
Who sees a different face
She hears the world laughing
No matter where she is in place
In her bedroom at home
She faces her demons alone
Unknown to her family
For years she has roamed
In her dreams one night
She receives her wish
Surrounded by mirrors
She cuts her wrists
Because the fear of her looks
Had penetrated so deep inside
This beautiful girl
Who now, no longer resides
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/dark.php
The beautiful morning sits alone,
but with wonderful distress, and
lonelieness.
A tear falls from the morning sky,
and it begins to cry a storm alive.
Oh beautiful morning, what has
you so upset?
This morning cannot be like this.
Even before noon, the morning
sky, flooded the earth, no more
dry.
*Hey guys :-) If you've got time to leave a little comment, I'd really appreciate any feed
back you're willing to proffer. Constructive critcism and suggestions for improvement are
very welcome. Thanks!*
Hate the day time, and the boredom,
And the hours left to kill,
And the pain you feel inside,
Scoops a hole for him to fill,
Whisper secrets over sunsets,
Promise you will never tell,
Pretty lies, dainty deceptions,
You never felt so well,
A beautiful mind,
But he’s sick in the head,
You imagine his touch,
He imagines you dead,
In his eyes there’s something wrong,
Sense the danger, crave the thrill,
Cut the cord, you’re too far gone,
Just slowly losing will,
Dazzles you with words,
Leaves you lost in a daze,
Cos you always were a sucker,
For a witty turn of phrase,
Gives you poppies in the evening,
Loves them best because they bring,
The things you both are craving,
Sleep for you and blood for him,
Sink into it easy,
The opiate of his hold,
Like a knife through butter or skin,
You know he prefers them cold,
A beautiful mind,
But he’s sick in the head,
You imagine his touch,
He imagines you dead,
In his eyes there’s something wrong,
Sense the danger, crave the thrill,
Cut the cord, you’re too far gone,
Just slowly losing will,
Knows your weakness, knows your movements,
A master of the maze,
Watch you dreaming in the darkness,
He’s been lying there for days,
You can taste it on his lips,
See it hidden in his smile,
Know the truth, yet still embrace it,
That boy will bleed you dry,
Sunrise brings him closer,
Runs his fingers through your hair,
Breathes so softly “it’s your time now”,
And you haven’t got a prayer.
The moon seems somehow hollow tonight;
It’s light ghostly and intangible –
It peers at me like a baleful eye, marking me out
Spotlighting my sad state of solitude
‘Look at you, all alone,’ it mocks, in clangorous tones,
‘See how he has deserted you – the one who ruled your world.’
Oh yes…see how he has abandoned me,
The brash and beautiful traitor; Satan-snake in the grass…
Furious, my shoulders stiffen, the muscles in my back twinge;
Outrage boils in my guts, a seething whirlpool of bile and venom
And as I remember your face, your haughty stare, it hits -
I am overtaken by the nausea of wounded pride
And the worse – oh so much worse – pain of a freshly massacred heart
It is so powerful that tears of agony sting my eyes
I am forced to bow my head so my hair falls forward,
Curtains my face so the cruel moon won’t see me cry…
You know, beautiful brute, I think you’ve killed me this time
I can even feel the hole you left…the one you gouged in my heart
My probing fingers can detect it, leaching misery into my blood,
Spouting black despair like desert oil…
And as for my trust, well, that’s all in tattered shreds;
A bloodied battlefield banner, lying crumpled on an airless day
I can imagine, sweet, that wherever you are you’re gloating
In one fell swoop you annihilated my heart and soul
You put me through the agony of sleepless nights,
And endless days unable to eat for wishing you were here
And at the end of it all, when you did appear, all you did was stab;
Was plunge your knife into my exposed and fragile spine –
And twist…and twist…and twist…
Until I slumped, weeping and worshipful, onto the glistening moon-washed floor…
I was born in the beautiful country called Zimbabwe,
Now it is devastated by the tyrant Robert Mugabe.
It was once a land full of milk and honey,
No this poem is not going to turn out funny.
But once this African came into power,
The whole country turned sour.
Don’t get me wrong not all Africans are bad, I turned out well,
Well besides the underarm smell, what the hell.
I remember when everything looked new, we were happy souls,
Now we have ten trillion dollar bills and the roads are full of pot holes.
Yes this is the country you need two wheel barrows full of money to but bread,
There's no welfare so you got to beg borrow and steal or you dead.
We had beautiful scenery, like Matopos (the balancing rocks) and Victoria Falls,
But this African destroyed it all.
We used to call the Falls the “Rain that thunders,”
Now I think it should be called “The nation’s tears caused by one man’s blunders.”
I now live in the UK where my father was born and where I will be
But as the saying goes “You can take the monkey out of the tree, but not the tree out of the
monkey.”
I miss my country the lovely Zimbabwe
And so sorry one African can mess it up, the African Robert Mugabe.
*Africans' attitude Contest*
The calm waters edge
Splashes the shore,
The tranquil place,
The perfect place,
Anyone would want to be here.
The thoughts of family, friends
Anyone you wish to share this moment with,
Share this overwhelming feeling of joy swirling in your mind
This most amazing scene.
This picture displayed before your eyes
Makes you want to cry
The feeling of pride;
Pride, love for what is in front of your eyes.
This epic moment.
Sun shining on the sea
Creating an amazing contrast to the sky.
Below the sea lays,
Lay such unfathomable things.
As the sun slowly falls from the sky
You take time and realize
The feeling of being free.
When the sun’s light finally hides
You sit on the soft white sand
Pondering:
How can such a beautiful thing exist in this world of death?
The trees stir as the wind blows,
There is no more warmth of day,
Just the bright moons light
And the crisp air of night.
Close your eyes and relax.
Dream of the peaceful things,
You have seen.
Awake.
The same scene surrounds you
Yet without the same feeling of joy.
The suns clouded,
Its darkness making the ocean look grey,
What was once a nice day
Has been shown the side of decay.
The wind flows around
But with a different tone,
The gentle, reassuring breeze
Dead.
Something is wrong.
The soft, quiet ocean starts to turn tide
There is no sound.
Lightening crackles shattering the silence
Violent rain pounds the ground
And the ocean turns black,
The fury is coming.
Spin, turn, look for an escape
But no one is around;
Shut your eyes, drown out the noise
And think of that time.
That time...
The one with the nice breeze
And the clear sky
The one that made you cry;
Cry those tears of happiness and content.
The beautiful scene
That beautiful time.
The one with not a care in sight
The one where stars where always shined bright
And the water was a beautiful sight,
Yes, yes, once upon a time...
I was only two years old
with beautiful brown eyes and hair
I was just a tiny ole thing
still needing care
I loved to run and play
learning new things
was everything I had to gain
My life was cut to short
for my mother wanted much more
If you watch CNN
You should know then what happen
If I knew that day
I was in harms way
I would have never ran into
my mommies arms
I was found after I turned only three
but the only thing left of me
was my skelton and bones
I guess my mommie has
what she wanted now
a 8x8 room
with pretty steel doors
My life here is much better
It has clouds and blue skies
and the most beautiful Angels
that ever have I saw
They were dark evil monsters.
They snatched her up and put curses on her.
They tore at her skin and ate away at her soul.
She was a tortured princess, begging to die.
He was her savor, he slayed the evil beings.
He wrapped her in sunshine, he showed her what warmth was.
He cured her wounds and healed her soul.
She couldn't believe her luck that he had found her.
Then she fall in love with him.
And she found out that he was not her knight.
He belonged to another.
One so different then her.
Why would you do this she asked.
He didn't know. Her beautiful knight,
Could not answer her question.
Who could he not live with out.
He couldn't come up with an answer.
The facts kept alluding her sun.
So he chose the easy way out.
He threw her back to the monsters.
Torn and chewed up once again.
Because of her beautiful knight.
Every day I am waiting at a busstop
Not for the bus but just to see her
Every day she looks new to me
Like a new angel a day
She don't know me
And I know her for years
She is front at the bus stop
And I am at a corner hiding and watching her
She always sit front in the bus
I am at a corner back seat
She never cares for me
But I even collect her every thrown bus ticket
And at the end of the day
Some of my tears go away
Then a smile follows it
Hoping that I am going to see her again
I even don't know that I love her
But I cannot live without seeing her
Years gone and decades
And she left me some beautiful memories
Some beautiful hurts and some beautiful tears from my eyes.
Mask
Hiding under this mask is a beautiful young girl,
Hiding her scars,
Hiding her pain,
She will never reveal.
Everyone teases her,
Calling her 'emo' and 'weird'
When all she wants is someone to understand her,
Someone to be there for her.
Hiding as she passes everyone,
No one can see her beautiful face
Or her horrid scars.
Twilight, oh beautiful twilight,
the foreboding before the dawn;
that such beauty can exist in such ill air-
is beyond me to understand,
as the first rays of light caress the darkness,
I cannot help but feel ashamed-
that I can't appreciate it.
I'm ashamed that I'm awake at this ungodly hour,
staring at the yonder sky when I ache for warm mattress cushions-
and a fluffy pillow comforting me;(maybe even a warm glass of milk)-
it all feels so far away, all I can do is gaze at the twilight.
I have to sit on a bench instead of a chair, hoping that someone will notice-
that I'm sitting here, that I'm not invisible, forsaken by the clouds above;
all I have is twilight now.
I see dawn approaching, I sat here all night; what else can I do but sit? I don't want to
sleep here-
and be judged. I don't sleep in the cold, I'm not an animal!
And I hope I never have to eat like one either.
Every day is getting colder, and the looks I get are especially frigid;(get out of my
sight! Disappear! We don't want you here!) they ignore my tears.
I don't want to sit here, I don't want to be invisible anymore!
I want to be a human being again.
I don't want to huddle for warmth-
on a bench, risking some authority will arrest me for loitering or beat me!
The world is not made for human beings or animals, it's made for possessions and wealth-
and somehow having neither is a crime and I sit in my first hours of despair wondering how
long my humanity will hold out, before I go feral?
So here I am enjoying the beautiful twilight and the incoming dawn,
never stayed up late enough or awoken early enough to see it before,
I see the sun's orange face emerge from the mask of shadows and-
begin to color the book's blank pages red, creating colors like no others-
I'd ever seen.
I weep with golden tears, having seen a painting that no museum could ever hold.
I try to renew my hope in what could be and what should be, trying not to think about what
I- no longer have as my stomach ache returns and the threat of hunger is too much for me
to hold, I retreat into my mind, imagining a warm room in which I tell a close personal
friend about a bright, glistening twilight.
She walks through the lonely streets
Waiting for her love to meet
She sits outside in the pouring rain
And cries to get rid of the pain
She quiets down in the crowd
Being misread, seeming proud
And in her sweet shy smile you'll see
A girl lacking confidence is she
With her friends, she fakes so well
She's too afraid to break out of her shell
Too afraid to see her beauty, her worth
How precious she's been since the time of her birth
All too often, she's been put down
Her self-esteem and joy were left to drown
She's the type of girl whose beauty stays
Morning and night, all throughout the day
But she doesn't know it, she never will
Her empty feeling, she'll never fill
And even when she fills up with tears
From all the hurt built up through the years
Stunning and radiant, her eyes will glow
But still, her beauty, she'll never know
You can tell her, but she'll just wonder why,
or how you can possibly tell her this awful lie
She's set herself up for failure and pain,
All efforts toward happiness will just be in vain
She's the sweet and funny girl, who's smart
The beautiful girl, with her beautiful heart
But she'll never know it, she wont accept;
Only the years of hurtful words she's kept
It's sad to see her scarred from her life of woe
And how she has this beauty that she'll never know
They made a huge nest with straws of golden hay
on the top of a fragrant, shady apple tree;
and they were the beautiful bluejays of May
that constantly warbled until sunset vanished entirely.
They have gone to a warmer place with pretty cotton fields...
before winter approaches and turns into a white blanket,
but my nostalgia for the departed bluejays with soft wings
fills the chilly and stormy air with something I can't predict.
Oh, bluejays which other bluest sky you fly under...
without the fear of an impetous, frightful thunder,
to find that haven which delights even a restless lark
when sunrise arises his desire to be a free heart?
Luckily, they won't be here when the frigid wheather will be coming...
when that glistening blanket of snow will cover every meadow;
they will remember spring battering the land with a sudden windstorm...
and listening to their cheerful song, brought true joy to my living.
Oh, bluejays from this icy window I yearn for a celestial, melodic praise!
Could anything console me as the moon wanes,
if sunrise offers no hope for my deep longing
that soars over miles of frozen sky...until it awakens me from dreaming?
Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci
Written for Constance-A Rambling Poet
for Beautiful Birds Mini Blog Contest
You're as beautiful as the day, I met you
And it will always be that way
I said that I would always love you
And that still stands true, today
You're the best mother a child ever had
And you're also the worlds greatest wife
You're the woman of a thousands dreams
That I've searched for all of my life
You always knew how to make me smile
Whenever I was feeling down
There was something in your magical voice
That would melt away my frown
I wanted to put you on a pedistal
But you said it was way too high
You said you didn't deserve it
But I never quite understood why
You're the reason that God made the sunshine
To compete with your beautiful smile
But you never thought you were special
For that was just never your style
We've made memories to last us a lifetime
And I promise to never forget
I've made you a million promises
And I haven't broken one yet
I come here today to say goodbye
And to give you one last kiss
I want you to know, as they lower you down
How much you're gonna be missed