Short Depressive Poems
Short Depressive Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Depressive by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Depressive by length and keyword.
Darkness surrounds me
I reside in a black cloud
That brings me closer
To death descending into
a dungeon I can't escape
Vincent van Gogh colourist
often with yellowed orange did insist
In manic depressive mood swings
this painting* was his last fling
As far as anyone can tell, I am alive and well,
But I am still trying to end my persistent depressive spell
Through resilience and love, even as I go through Hell.
Depressive Which Was Manic
My kind of depression had been manic;
Already considered doing another antic;
Screeching halt,
And my fault;
Broke big button that they labelled panic.
Jim Horn
Trump Paranoid and Manic Depressive
By Trump everyone has been annoyed;
Highly paranoid and we want to avoid;
Disaster like Titanic;
Depressive and manic;
Absence from White House will be enjoyed.
Jim Horn
as i stand here against my back
i remind you of the times you fail
i rest my head into my hands
so i can listen to your hell
and when your finished i tip my hat
and challenge the stories you tell
i guarantee it gets worse than that
if you feel the way i feel
Form:
No drama,
Criticized,
No scene,
Criticized,
No theater,
Critized,
No life,
Criticized,
No death,
Criticized...
A hipnotic spell,
A happy comedy,
An impact of tragedy,
A depressive sorrow,
A constant paranoia,
A living psychology,
A passing psychiatry...
An endless beginning...
We're obsessive, compulsive, good looking, repulsive..
Ever blameful with our faultless sight..
We're passive aggressive..
We're manic depressive..
We're even bipolar, that's right..
We're psychotic, neurotic..
Free wheeling, robotic..
From the day into the night..
The next time you cry,
Acknowledge the warmth of those salty tears upon your cheeks.
That is what it is to be alive.
To have,
To had.
The moment.
I assure you in those lonely moments,
You will feel how strong you are,
How resilient.
You can survive this life,
If only,
You Acknowledge
I thought I knew you so well
I thought I could identify
With your manic ramblings
Your depressive couplets
Meant to express the beauty of your inner mind
Through ups and downs
Highs and lows
Mood swings
Instabiity
Binges
Impulsivity
Unstable persona
I thought I knew you so well
I thought I could identify
The Manic Depressive Cycle
I breathe into my lungs and soul,
The wind beneathe the bright blue sky.
My spirit stares into the sun,
And burns its passion on my mind.
Through unseen tears I watch myself,
Speak lines drawn from a comic play.
From dark warm depths I tear my heart,
And place it, bleeding, on your tray.
Much Money for the Few
Much money for few;
Not much for many;
Tighter tighten screw,
Soon left without any.
Problems failing to face;
Never accept and ignore;
Depressive with disgrace;
Then our hair out we tore.
Often find the objective.
While having open mind;
Have been more selective;
Lower vine best grapes find.
Jim Horn
Depressive thoughts are all consuming
The blackness of my heart is blooming
Sadness seeps through every pore
The daily tasks a grinding chore
Damning thoughts invade my conscience
Making truths of utter nonsense
Run away and keep on running
The thoughts inside my head are thrumming
But here I'll stay and here I'll die
Before you ever see me cry
You bring your own tribe
Of negative vibes
You make that dumb face
That cuts like knives
It’s passive aggressive
And too excessive
The littlest thing
Your manic depressive
Your anger is stout
And when it’s let out
Everyone’s affected
By the words you shout
You couldn’t care less
You’re truly, a mess
But we all keep quiet
Or no one will rest
Dreams stolen
By an illness
With no compassion
With no heart or soul
A chalky pill
A weapon against the madness
That lives to destroy
The brilliance that lives inside us
A bitter illusion
Our bodies free to roam the world
While our minds are locked away
Prisonsers of this frightening journey
Inside this manic depressive existence
That we call home
Things changes…
Those lights fade down,
With suicidal thoughts.
Unknown voices heared,
Pains being beared.
People may look strong,
But, what about those weak,
Weeping child of past.
I don't think that
Dark circles and wrinkles,
Are the markers of depression.
Some times a beautiful mask,
Hides everything behind.
But hope never changes,
Everything will be fine soon.
Nobody's reading,
and for good reason-
who wants to hear the jive and gibberish
of emotional unbalance; we all get that,
sometimes at our lowest point, but for me,
a near persistent reality, and it's something poetry
captures but can't hold on, because the horror never stops
as it does on the page, and exhalts in only feelings;
the depressive dips and rising rage, of oceanic waves.
If black wasn't a color, it would be a state of mind
That dark, anxious and depressive kind
Where there's no light seeping in
And hope is crushing from within
Black, where everything is dark
Black, where lights are losing their spark
It's when the world stops spinning
And the surge of thoughts keeps flowing
When you're tangled in the cobweb of lies
That the chaotic mind simply cannot disguise
Happiness
Happiness is one heavenly bliss
Annihilate your depressive thoughts,
Paring pain of soul's silent bleeds
Pouters shun that gloomy prejudice,
Ignore miseries of the bitter past
Nevertheless you are born to cherish life,
Eventually future will be bright,
Savor His gifts of unending treasures,
Serenity will float in air till eternity !
Written Dec 18th, 2015
© Dr. Upma A. Sharma
For contest by John Hamilton
Dancing prancing
cry cry cry
Whirling twirling
die die die
Up on the roof top
Laughing with maniacal glee
Saddest moment ever
Keeping this to myself, as you can see
Shopping, buying everything in sight
Wishing someone would unplug me
Or turn out the light
Life of the party, collecting strangers all around
Falling fast, and hard, maybe to never again
Fully be found.
Dancing prancing
Cry cry cry
Bi-polar fun.
Why? Why? Why?
One of my children once asked me
if I thought he might be
a manic depressive.
I replied in a diplomatic way
that we probably all were
and it was not his fault.
It was my genes that did
him in and not to make to
much of it.
Don't trust the highs
any more than you
trust the lows.
Our chemical illusions are
no more valid or false
than any one else's.
That was the best that i
could do at the time and
I was, of course, depressed
the rest of the day.
When you see me
What do you see
A man broken by the ravages of trying to be
The child crying at a scrapped knee
The lover unable to leave one who doesn't love me
The manic depressive numbed by life
The artist who strives to convey emotion
from a muddied paint tray
The poet using words to explain away the day
and with each syllable
give a little of me away
so what do you say
When you see me
What do you see
Cause all i see
is the empty
In this world so dim
Brightness is lent by your grin
Reminicensing years gone marked bylaughter so loud
All sorrows go under shroud
Yours was a hand to hold
When rest of the world seemed cold
When times were tough
Just one ear was good enough
You gave me time
When the need was prime
In depressive times you lent your hand
Without which it was difficult to stand.
Between the two of us there's an affinity
Friends for long, is approval of divinity.
The weight of old age increases with time,
dragging spirits down a depressive hole.
And taking pills, prescribed to ease your pain,
the last years are anything but sublime.
You question if believing in a soul,
is vain.
You squirrel away cash you'll never spend
just in case hard times should show up again.
But you pray you'll never need that bankroll,
choosing to believe God’s will, in the end,
will reign.
(Curtal Sonnet)
6/27/2021
Memories lie like ashes in a cold fire place
Scattered by whispers of the past.
Dust devils of emotions twirl and race,
Dodging depressive shadows the sunlight casts
A winding stair that once lead to dreams
Of lovers entwined in lust.
Spiders web of love, high on the beams
Broken by the flies of mistrust.
Where the windows cry with teardrops of rain
And the hearts of lovers turned to stone.
No happiness lingers, there is only pain
Of a broken man sitting alone
Form: