Weeping Poems - Poems about Weeping

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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Me, I'm the weeping poet you see sitting in that swing Worrying about being perceived For I think I am what I am not "Sensitive girl" don't tell me twice I may be alone, but I've got voices in my head and they tell me what to believe May be weak, but my emotions run as deep as the blood...

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Alternately marveling and weeping at what’s occurred in my country An assassin’s bullet now a bloodless coup in a span of eight days ~ a convention too ...

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I wrote you poetry All it did was make you angry So now I swing from the weeping willow tree Waiting for the end of me Oh weeping willow Aren't they happy down below Time for me to reap what they sow Take the punishment and go...

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This poem is based on the painting 'Weeping Woman' by Picasso In fragments of fate, timeless tears seem invisible, but there is profoundness in sorrow, a beauty in the vulnerability - there is an art to expression. As colours collide upon a canvas, it reminds me of a black and white world, where I was taught to be a 'man.' But all I recall...

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