There’s an emptiness inside me
That makes me hollow
But takes up space.
It crushes me internally,
Takes away my hunger
And doesn’t let me breathe.
I have to force my lungs
To take in the air
Like I’m mouth-feeding my inner child.
But all I take in
Is pain
that keeps me empty.
But then I find you again.
I feel your presence,
Even though we don’t belong
To each-other anymore
And I feel the colors
of your soul,
Even tho you don’t want me
Around anymore.
And then You look at me
Like I have never held you
And You speak to me
Like I’ve never heard you sing
And that pain fills me
But at least I’m not hollow
Anymore.
The boy tossed the old denim shoe over a limb,
during a summer dare.
He meant to retrieve it, but forgot.
The tree kept it the way trees keep old things.
And the sparrow, small and serious,
looked at that denim hollow
and saw a home no one else imagined.
It’s the kind of story where the world
doesn’t fix what’s broken~
it simply lets something new grow inside it.
I'm a hollow soul with a needle, no matter if it's herion ice or crack...I don't have a little monkey, I have king Kong hangin on my back... Where's my wife and kids these days, what happened to my job...I haven't brushed my teeth or showered in a week, when did I become a slob....I'm a hollow soul with a needle, my own family will I lie to cheat and steal.... Cause all I care about is getting high, just to change the way I feel...So off to the methadone clinic again, can't shoot herion anymore... cause I can't find anymore veins to hit, and my arms are getting sore...I'm a hollow soul with a needle as I lay here feeling so sick... with restless legs and upset stomach, just craving that hollow little prick...Man that's messed up about Brandon and Randy, both of them dying this year....If I didn't catch hepatitis c shooting up, ide probably drink a little beer....So a hollow soul with a needle kids, is this what you really want to be.... Cause it will take your lives to the darkest hell you're eyes will ever see....
Wrestling
with big issues
his words
often failed
To meet
the new moment
addressing
his ails
Short
on description
emotion
stripped bare
A hollow
depiction
of feelings
— unshared
(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)
Written: July 30th, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Seth Pina
*********
Your very skeleton
is not spun from cotton and polyester.
No, it is not carved from wood,
nor forged from metal or steel.
Its substance is—nerve endings,
tissue, and blood—
circulatory systems,
bound,
but not from woven fabric.
A lethal lotus languishes,
lamenting in its limbo,
crouched on bended knee.
A curved carcass, prostrate
beneath time’s passing wheel.
Its chalk-white bones
measure the slow decay,
where darkness lingers
in the hollow space within.
Cyborg of a cyber-skeleton.
Coiled with a steel-stitch
sprocket of subjugation.
Its spinal cord, bound in circuitry,
hums with sorrow.
A crestfallen cranium,
a heavy, hollowed
moon-orb weighed down
by the gravity of grief
in synthesized solitude.
Amidst this woeful wheel,
supplications of skinless steel
fuse forgotten fragility and fortitude
into a fatalistic future.
For you were neither tool nor tree,
but a tight-furled tapestry of flesh—
a weeping engine, bound in bone,
where the wild pulse fights the gear,
and slowly fades to rust.
The candlelight
that once lit up so bright,
cautiously began to fade.
Though the room got dimmer,
it went unnoticed for a long while.
When it signaled for help,
we simply watched as it flickered.
Now all that’s left
is a glowing ember on the wick,
in a dark room.
Seasons change,
And we rearrange
Our lives, passing by
Like the howling winds that cry.
Today we are,
But tomorrow by far -
We are not the same,
As we find ourselves in another frame!
The grass withers,
The flowers fade,
The road bends,
And life ends
On this transient earth -
Is life worth it?
04.08.2021
Copyright © 2021 by Crystal David John
Unseen
Tears shed often,
Measures the depth of grief,
So profound the ache, it grips you
Within.
Copyright © 2026 by Crystal David John
Written: July 7, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Suzette Richards
*******************
Conceive a star in search of shelter!
Flickering ember lost in cosmic abysm
chiaroscuro its glow with fringing darkness,
draining ardor into night's hollow embrace,
within space orbs, stars find their cradles—
Shelter flickering glow, embrace orbs. . .
When marquee of eve glints on a skyline,
I gaze at jewelled stars naturally blinking--
that the world heaves with content
open to eve's charm undefined by time...
And within this space I become a listener
of winds tickling trees,
a watcher of colors bleeding the ground ;
one runner chasing leaves
on upturned sways ,
knowing that my world's best pleasure
is gratitude, a rune filtering through
inner being that opens the moon right up,
And my world spills into a hundred portraits
borne from an unrelenting joy
which the race for hollow gold or rank
cannot eclipse...
allowing the self immeasurable joy
on the breath of each new day!
Progress of human civilization
was so long based on realisation
of ' Plain Living and High Thinking': An old
concept turning to ' Race For Hollow Gold."
Now the aim :' High Living and Plain Thinking '!
This challenge ripples, rushes zest and zing !
A pursuit of shallow or meaningless
superficial success to access !
Self-interest will reach to any length,
whether societal status or wealth :
Bewildered, disoriented, frantic.
No feelings for others : Just eccentric.
Selfish self-centred approach : Illusion.
‘My life is mine’ is the prime dicesion .
By hook or crook to follow own life style :
‘ Race For Hollow Gold’ is creating profile.
Is not the world running a rat race
After gold, deemed as the richest prize?
What does it ultimately fetch us,
Other than making our life a mess!
The glitter of gold makes men go daze.
Flaunting wealth has become their craze.
Easy money is modern man’s obsession.
It will end up in his steady transgression.
In time, power and prestige may grow,
But sad, man goes blind in their dazzling glow.
Fairness easily surrenders to corruption,
Leading to value’s wholesale evaporation.
Character gets lost in pleasure’s pursuit
And man, degenerates into a mere brute.
Honesty and integrity are looked down with hate.
Discipline and dedication become obsolete.
Gold may glitter and shine, wealth may stay,
But time will one day take them all away.
The truest wealth is not the one we avariciously heap,
But a loving heart and a peaceful mind that we keep.
In hollow gold as our priorities, we place,
It is our innate virtue and goodness, we replace.
When men’s hypocrisy as probity, they plaster
Is not our world running into a grave disaster?
All of my life I have been in a race it seems,
as a school girl I wanted the best marks;
to be the top,
this was my goal.
As I grew older I chased a golden reward,
in dance class I needed to be a star:
in writing I want that first place always,
that hollow sanctified, coveted by others, place:
to hold a fake gilded trophy.
But, now the years have mellowed me,
oh, a few wins;
in contests is okay.
Gone the need to sprint to the top of the mountain,
to be held in the spotlight and adored;
gold is just a color,
not a basic need.
Oh, no more marathons for this girl anymore,
I walk slowly, peacefully through life's paths:
the golden allure is nature's glory,
a halcyon sun a blessing;
I feel anointed by God.
What of a challenge you may ask ?
Well, peace is my choice,
and who could ask for more.
Sometimes men's ambitions can be
Like bird eggs coated in gold
Place in nest back in the tree
If mother accepts lie told
Hatchlings she'll never behold
Behold metamorphosis, if
They let Holy Spirit
Come in, let go all their tiffs
His love will flow this is implicit
In Bible explained explicit
finis'
why waste your time chasing dreams filled with worthless wealth
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.