Tears Poems - Poems about Tears

Stock market is crying heartfelt tears World wide depression is one of its fears It has not known this sadness, in....well.....forever And some thought a dictatorship would be so clever?...

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This somber glade where they've laid you will become my sanctuary; memories will be companions in my quiet misery. You never liked to see me cry. I hear your soft and gentle voice with tenderest sincerity asking, 'Why such bitter tears?' These tears are layered like the rose that, to my lips, I press and kiss while kneeling in the cold, damp sod only to be...

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My days were filled with limp lifts of your hands, each a tear steeped in lost compassion. You made me swim in a cold, clammy sea of sorrow~ and shaped me into a voiceless, motionless s c u l p t u r e. My cries were your joy— your face and the devil’s wore identical masks. Your...

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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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WE ARE ONE We march towards beckoning stars tears, sweat, scars across bars heralding heroes gone not forgotten paving ways with courageous bones we are One Love sown Fortune, fame, pearls are not ingredients in stewed freedom pots Truth beckons a timbre away chortling cherub cheer holding sway cession chains fall heavy everyday Open dark windows of shame tigers tranquil...

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When I take flight, will it be by day or night? Will you see me, even if I am right in front of thee? To fly like an angel I would be, loving you and flying very free. I would like to fly, fly into the bright blue sky. I will be there when you cry, I will help to dry your tearful eye. As...

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Yesterday is gone Today to run Tomorrow will wait also to smile at the veteran mocker or the jubilant joker. ...

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suddenly from somewhere a street urchin an untamed bird of the wider sky dropped down into the circus tent. before him unfurled, scenes eerie, awesome! soaring lions and tigers, gibbering baboons, caravans of camels, animal tamers and acrobats, artists balancing on poles, swinging from bars to trapeziums, pliant girls with plastic limbs, and pouting breasts, walking on tight ropes. a strange world with beasts and men! his face painted white. in...

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Against a willowy wailing backdrop of inner chaos, an indignant incendiary mask stifles the simmering cauldrons, of a stoic stage clown post lachrymose performance wearily stunning yet stung, or the surreptitious posture of the laugh it off as mediocre bypass, iron clad ruthless repression of bone rattle indignation a seeker of impoverished aperture, whilst many can manage to laugh through...

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"Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first." - quote by Mark Twain ----------------------------------------------------------- Being poor is not romantic Hunger has no eyes, no vision Soul boils without, within, unfelt Neglected health devaluates Dignity, respect takes back seats Pity is a sharp stab in gut Working up to life, to find...

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So few will ever see A clown’s sorrowful tears His hopes, his dreams, his fears Hidden so expertly Can it ever be known A clown’s most cherished thoughts His soul, tangled in knots To us is never shown He lives but to perform He seeks that center stage The actor’s gilded cage He covets as the norm It’s heavenly to him To make the people smile And laugh for...

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Don't let the painted layers that were made to make up , stop you from questioning the feelings behind their costumes and gown. The slightest smudging, by which sympathetic fingers smear, unmasks fear, and an underlying frown At the end of every day, when curtains close and the lights die down. Floodgated tears emerge, from...

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Even long after hundreds of years, There will never be enough tears....

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He glances ‘round the crowded room, Where laughter sparks and joy resumes. He plays along, a practiced mime— Lifts his lips, but not in time. For somewhere deep, his mind has flown, His soul long gone, he stands alone. What’s left behind, a hollow frame— A shadowed man without a name. And oh, You cannot feign what isn’t true. So smiles, like paint, began to...

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Have you ever sat alone in your room and silently produced salty pools of agony for the first time in years? Desperately devastated at the reason behind them, sincerely surprised at your ability to excrete them, ironically indebted to a moment that feels a sliver of something again, grateful even if salty...

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