Least Read Poems About Death
#death
Least read poems about death. Find an undiscovered masterpiece in the DU Poetry least read poems.
Neither one waiting at the bend
Neither one waiting at the bend
Nor stationed upon the hill
Was present to make offense
Or entertain some evil will.
A breeze came, another went -
Rattling the bursages
As a creeping serpent
Going into hiding does.
If I died right here -
How many lonesome clouds -
How many foraging birds
Would pass by before I was found?
Would the beloved sun
Care to kiss me good-bye?
Would the angels of the canyon
Guide me on my flight?
Nor stationed upon the hill
Was present to make offense
Or entertain some evil will.
A breeze came, another went -
Rattling the bursages
As a creeping serpent
Going into hiding does.
If I died right here -
How many lonesome clouds -
How many foraging birds
Would pass by before I was found?
Would the beloved sun
Care to kiss me good-bye?
Would the angels of the canyon
Guide me on my flight?
#death
22 reads
1 Comment
PRISON CELL
Here I am sitting in my prison cell
No one notices; no one can tell
My body in physical form is free
But my immortal soul-the real me
Is chained and locked away
A smile I carry day after day
But a heaviness I carry deep in the soul
Where no one can see...no one knows.
The knowledge that I may have fallen from grace
Living my younger days in total disgrace
Wearying the Lord and making Him cry
Taking for granted that for me He died
It cost me nothing and He asked for nothing in return
But doing the right thing I didn't...
No one notices; no one can tell
My body in physical form is free
But my immortal soul-the real me
Is chained and locked away
A smile I carry day after day
But a heaviness I carry deep in the soul
Where no one can see...no one knows.
The knowledge that I may have fallen from grace
Living my younger days in total disgrace
Wearying the Lord and making Him cry
Taking for granted that for me He died
It cost me nothing and He asked for nothing in return
But doing the right thing I didn't...
#anxiety
#depression
#dark
#death
#prison
23 reads
7 Comments
Aging
I Rather die at my highest then slowly fall to my death..
#aging
#death
25 reads
0 Comments
Never Thought Myself Garbage
The distillation of my heart
leaves condensation upon my
brow, that which bled now
coagulated, a stroke of luck
Cold roll the beads downward
as so the countenance falls,
cloudless rain besets and
will not be absorbed
Though the crucifixion imagined
the nails hurt none the less
and I without a Magdalena cry
myself to sleep
The ache of bone beneath
aged flesh speaks to a well
travelled road, oceans between
us, my throat still dry
You left me to die in the desert
no kiss goodbye to...
leaves condensation upon my
brow, that which bled now
coagulated, a stroke of luck
Cold roll the beads downward
as so the countenance falls,
cloudless rain besets and
will not be absorbed
Though the crucifixion imagined
the nails hurt none the less
and I without a Magdalena cry
myself to sleep
The ache of bone beneath
aged flesh speaks to a well
travelled road, oceans between
us, my throat still dry
You left me to die in the desert
no kiss goodbye to...
#death
#grief
#rejection #suffering
#rejection #suffering
26 reads
10 Comments
Fated
The breathtaking twilight blooms
and doom perches on the constellations.
The formation of the shadows prophesied.
I remain agonized in this silent night.
Blight has settled into my garden.
Pardon the mess of my wilted dreams.
Screams echo still, tombed in my chest.
There will be no rest in my efflorescence.
My essence is dispirited, and I anguish.
Left to languish in mourning
as it has put a stop to my aborning hope.
Maybe I can find a way to cope without my haven,
but the ravens have come calling.
I find...
and doom perches on the constellations.
The formation of the shadows prophesied.
I remain agonized in this silent night.
Blight has settled into my garden.
Pardon the mess of my wilted dreams.
Screams echo still, tombed in my chest.
There will be no rest in my efflorescence.
My essence is dispirited, and I anguish.
Left to languish in mourning
as it has put a stop to my aborning hope.
Maybe I can find a way to cope without my haven,
but the ravens have come calling.
I find...
#dark
#death
28 reads
10 Comments
(45) Please Forgive Me Little Brother 03.31.2024 @ 9:56am
#death
#depression
#grief
#hurt
#sadness
30 reads
Kiss the Breeze
This afternoon I felt fragile
So fragile the gentle breeze could have sliced me in half
But it didn't
Maybe that's just not what breezes do
Or perhaps the breeze took pity on me for the days events
On most other days a breeze is a delight but
Today my friend died
Cancer took a lovely man
Last time i saw him we went to shake hands but
I kissed his cheek instead
I'm so glad i did
He smiled a broad toothy smile and we said goodbye
I'd see him again or so i thought
But i didn't
I'm so glad I kissed his cheek.
...
So fragile the gentle breeze could have sliced me in half
But it didn't
Maybe that's just not what breezes do
Or perhaps the breeze took pity on me for the days events
On most other days a breeze is a delight but
Today my friend died
Cancer took a lovely man
Last time i saw him we went to shake hands but
I kissed his cheek instead
I'm so glad i did
He smiled a broad toothy smile and we said goodbye
I'd see him again or so i thought
But i didn't
I'm so glad I kissed his cheek.
...
#death
#friendship
#love
31 reads
It Wasn't A Wonderful Life
Some people were upset and they said it was unfair.
George Bailey killed old man Potter and he went to the electric chair.
George discovered that the eight thousand was stolen by Potter.
George became enraged and he was angry enough to slaughter.
George went to Potter's house with his gun and he shot him through the heart.
As they strapped George to the electric chair, he knew his decision wasn't smart.
George refused to have his head shaven and his hair burst into flames.
Poor George truly became a hot head and he only had himself to blame.
George...
George Bailey killed old man Potter and he went to the electric chair.
George discovered that the eight thousand was stolen by Potter.
George became enraged and he was angry enough to slaughter.
George went to Potter's house with his gun and he shot him through the heart.
As they strapped George to the electric chair, he knew his decision wasn't smart.
George refused to have his head shaven and his hair burst into flames.
Poor George truly became a hot head and he only had himself to blame.
George...
#death
#fiction
#murder
#parody
#Christmas
31 reads
0 Comments
Birdsong
I'm off to a funeral today.
I don't weep much at funerals anymore.
I simply contemplate.
Contemplate my human fate.
I will get old.
I will get sick.
I will die.
I will be separated from everyone and everything I own, have known.... loved.
When the funeral and wake are done, I'll go home to cook dinner and watch tv.
Life forgets death very quickly.
I don't weep much at funerals anymore.
I simply contemplate.
Contemplate my human fate.
I will get old.
I will get sick.
I will die.
I will be separated from everyone and everything I own, have known.... loved.
When the funeral and wake are done, I'll go home to cook dinner and watch tv.
Life forgets death very quickly.
#death
#funeral
32 reads
1 Comment
A Fallowless Field
What cursed plain, where blood doth ever flow
And war’s unending wrath shall never cease?
A field where neither time nor mercy show
But reeks with death and mocks the hope of peace
Beneath the sky, now ever bruised and torn
The soil drinks deep the ichor of the slain
Each blade of grass a dagger, sharply worn
Each breath of wind a soldier’s dying pain
The sun doth hide its face in shamed retreat
As clouds of ash and smoke obscure the day
The earth, a grave where foes and comrades meet
In crimson tides their flesh shall...
And war’s unending wrath shall never cease?
A field where neither time nor mercy show
But reeks with death and mocks the hope of peace
Beneath the sky, now ever bruised and torn
The soil drinks deep the ichor of the slain
Each blade of grass a dagger, sharply worn
Each breath of wind a soldier’s dying pain
The sun doth hide its face in shamed retreat
As clouds of ash and smoke obscure the day
The earth, a grave where foes and comrades meet
In crimson tides their flesh shall...
#conflict
#dark
#death
#soldiers
#war
32 reads
0 Comments
When She Met Archer
Here lies Miss Challenge Accepted.
“I’ll put the apple on my head.”
is what she said.
Then she hit the floor,
and could say no more.
Looks like fate intercepted.
“I’ll put the apple on my head.”
is what she said.
Then she hit the floor,
and could say no more.
Looks like fate intercepted.
#death
#funny
#love
33 reads
20 Comments
LEILA OH LEILA
#anger
#childhood
#dating
#death
#motherhood
33 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Least Read Poems About Death