Cried Poems - Poems about Cried

Tonight I cried. The silence after giving was louder than my music ever dared to be. Six cards, six names—none turned toward me. I asked why. The void answered with its back. Tonight I walked into the open like a soldier with no armor. The wind was a warning. The world—cold, familiar....

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I cried in the toilet because it was the only place no one needed me to be quiet and smiling. I cried because Howl smiled at me, and something inside me was too broken to hold the joy. I cried not because of anything in particular— but because everything was always too much, and nobody noticed I never stopped trying. I cried with the water running so no one would hear— but not a single...

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My God is ever glowing Like the shadows in my mind My God is glowing a thousand suns A thousand times Far across the hills and valleys God cried the glory of His Son I'll never forget the love You've shown We all were loved by Your dear Son Never underestimate the power of God He'll keep us all in line He loves us yes...

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I only wish she hadn’t cried the tears meant for me while she burned under a merciless sun, hadn’t been the sheltering forest while her own bark turned to ash, hadn’t stood like an unmoving mountain to lift me on her shoulders toward the blue skies, hadn’t taken upon herself the dark clouds meant to cover me like...

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And the children cried out to their Maker Bless us Lord, we receive Your loving peace They all clamered 'round about Him Singing and dancing, the Lord was pleased They came upon a leper His body wreaked, his eyes were dim He dare not raise his eyes to Jesus He was crippled but he really loved Him Finally they left, the sun...

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I lost my beautiful dog today I lost my dearest friend She took with her a piece of my heart I’ll never feel again I know you’ll say there will come a day when your heart is filled with another but you didn’t know my Chuli girl A dog unlike any other I’ve never cried or felt...

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It didn't matter that you cried blood, like dew on the brow of a forgotten world, it didn't matter that you cried tears, like hidden springs in the mountain, it didn't matter that you loved too much, like a sun illuminating the earth, it didn't matter that you loved with all your heart, like a tree stretching its...

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Here’s to the nights you didn’t say a word Just let the tears fall unseen & unheard. You smiled all day & then broke at night Still woke up early & still chose to fight. Here’s to the jokes you cracked through pain The way you danced in pouring rain. To hugging your pillow like it was a friend And saying you're...

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I called out to Death And Death answered me I cried out for his embrace And he comforted me I poured my heart out to Death And he invited me to dine with him For the two months I visited Death I was at peace I danced with Death and I felt free Oh how i wished to dance with Death for all eternity! To...

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We all are familiar with the first CRY of Jesus on the cross at Calvary. It was a one-theme CRY, the likes of which we all often make. In our pain, we question by asking God, "WHY?". Often, it is an agonizing CRY but not always a quest for answers. So it was with Jesus on the cross of Calvary...

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She cried out for attention—was it really a game? Or was it the only way they’d remember her name? Her voice, an echo, lost in the night, Drowned by indifference, swallowed by spite. Her grandfather’s eyes, heavy with shame, Saw only a liar—never the pain. She was a burden, a whispered regret, A shadow of sorrow he’d rather forget. Lonely, broken, battered, and...

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The Girl Who Cried “Death” The most special woman To ever walk this world, Well, she’s died quite young, This, I am told. For the ash in her breath Echos screams, melts her death. And her lover screams out loud, But, I am told, she makes no sound. For in the cracks between dreams, She slips in between....

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November 22, 1963 I was in fifth grade my teacher cried Oliver McKeithan ...

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Hoisted high Black flags sail, Camouflaged by a misty veil, A bow braced with forward guns, Upon a ship no-one outruns, This sight was seen through a scope, A view of horror crushing all hope, Terror races through the ship, For they are within Davy Jones grip, Bustling panic to throw weight over the side, Anything and everything to save their hide, Dark swells...

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“A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children; and she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.” Hope was born before the massacre; Jesus Christ was swaddled in a manger. Why Rachel? She died in childbirth. She cried out in her sadness. Rachel cried out, “Ben Oni,” son of my mourning. Jacob renamed him, Benjamin. Rachel cried out. Massacre...

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