Weeping Poems - Poems about Weeping

Mother, father are weeping Because the heavens didn’t send their heart a soul The wind, their house is breaking And the morning is very cold Outside they find With the earth in the sky That their sound is not here Nor is it nearby There's a train screaming angels to lower their heads And a cold concrete block reeking of death When no one was...

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My pen is mourning the agonies and the sufferings Of my people, who are drowning in the sea of misery. My keyboard' strokes are shadowing the slow rhythms Of the wandering beggar, who's lost in the sanctuary. My voice denounces the filthy cholera and the injustices, Which are punishing the weakest souls of the valley. A tiny oligarchy is meagerly being...

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If the world could weep if rain could wash away tears would the flood be forty days or forty years what time it shall take happily my life I would forsake if only children laughed children played children loved teaching elders not to hate never having to live in fear I would drown peacefully a happy woman ...

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The dins of war un-hushed the jarring of munitions the cacophony of starvation the grating contempt for humanity the discordant silence of the Free . . . The World...

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Mankind in all his stupidity and greed is slowly destroying our beautiful earth, the warnings are there but he chooses to ignore them. Quote by poet. I sat down under the cool shade of some weeping willow trees, a babbling brook flowed nearby and was so soothing to hear. I felt totally relaxed then I fell asleep...

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A serene sunset paints the alluvium at the shore line in tones reminiscent of a blushing bride. The glassy surface of the lake reflects the gently swaying of a lone tree. Whispers of wind weave through the willows, sharing secrets of yesteryear. Each gentle gust carries a chorus of memories, softly sung by the wind's...

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So many tears – throughout the years Tears of doubt when I hoped to find out That love would win – against my sin Tears of yearning in my heart, gently burning Filling me with an ache – but I didn’t break Tears of compassion who’re never out of fashion Though understanding left my soul withstanding So many tears who could quiet...

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So it is slowly weeping Ever seeping Ever seeping Quietly pain is creeping Since death’s last reaping Here as my tears are twinkling Ever blinking Ever blinking My self no longer keeping Out my tears are tinkling As my joy is ‘gain sinking Ever shrinking Ever shrinking Another light dies winking Life no longer linking...

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I was born into the weeping skies of July in this part of the world where the monsoon speaks in a language only the soul understands. Rain, like liquid glass, trickles down the banyan and banana leaves, the air hums with the rhythm of life reborn, and as a lullaby induces me to sleep. The sowing takes place in paddy...

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Sitting under this Weeping Willow tree, I think of yesterdays gone by. The special times I spent with my Mom and Dad, I reminisce and cry. They're no longer here, God took them to a better place, away from me. Mom said," If I ever leave, look for me in the clouds my son, that's where I'll always be." Now I...

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A BIRCH TREE'S CONFIDENCE A young tree stands tall Rooted to the woodland floor Thinks itself immune To all the struggles in store As ignorant as a child THE WEEPING WILLOW'S LAMENT In the end, all trees Must surrender to decay Seep into the dirt Shut their eyes and slip away It’s a fate none can escape...

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Urge to drown in the ocean Of the eyes that belong to him, Indulged in pure devotion To the smile that makes me dim. But when he fixes his hair As I hold my pen to write, I'm left stunned in the moment, Lost for words to describe. -laxika...

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nearby a moss covered angel kneels in prayer hands grasped she weeps in the autumn rain oh, this mournful image touches my soul and among the stained glass leaves flowers are fading at mom's grave I lay rose-colored roses already wilted knowing in hours they too ... will be withering...

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In the heart of the night, under the leaden and weeping sky, amidst the twisted shadows of our thoughts, we let ourselves be carried by a cold wind, cold as a kiss of death, falling into the abyss of our hidden fears, that chain our souls with shackles of cowardice, a silent disease that makes us see terrifying illusions, strange and...

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I rig a dream to fill it with all the anguish my heart has felt in a damp world always weeping. My worn coat hangs in a closet, its arms empty, like winter branches sighing, their damp world weeping. A yearning to run, an inhale of rain, I yield to a vulture of shadows weeping in damp worlds. In the...

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