Gorotika
Poem Published
Today 00:45am
Today 00:45am
Farewell
I was born through misery,
and raised with pain.
The life they gave me was always filled with vain…
Forgive me my dear, for me wanting to disappear,
everything is going downhill, I can't handle the despair.
This life is too much for me.
But please trust me my dear, I'm now free from despair
Please excuse the blood my dear.
and raised with pain.
The life they gave me was always filled with vain…
Forgive me my dear, for me wanting to disappear,
everything is going downhill, I can't handle the despair.
This life is too much for me.
But please trust me my dear, I'm now free from despair
Please excuse the blood my dear.
#dark
#death
#depression
#despair
#suicide
24 reads
0 Comments
moon_bather
Poem Published
Yesterday 3:56am
Yesterday 3:56am
Existential Crisis
What happens
With these piles of paper
Once I meet
The Grim Reaper?
With these piles of paper
Once I meet
The Grim Reaper?
#dark
#death
#despair
#LifeAsAWriter
#LifeCycle
38 reads
3 Comments
Her
Poem Published
21st Jan 2025 9:14pm
21st Jan 2025 9:14pm
Your Place of Peace
When night falls
When your breath stills
When your last memory of me isn’t the shadow you see
The place I hold for you in my heart
Will still be waiting for you
When your breath stills
When your last memory of me isn’t the shadow you see
The place I hold for you in my heart
Will still be waiting for you
#abuse
#death
#forgiveness #mother
#forgiveness #mother
63 reads
wallyroo92
Bumped 21st Jan 2025 3:46am
8th Sep 2019 1:10am
8th Sep 2019 1:10am
Through the Eyes of a Friend
Look at me through the eyes of a friend, she said,
A stream of thoughts embraced me in a sad rhapsody,
But I, drunk on whiskey and rye cried a rivulet instead,
Running through my mind like an unforgettable melody.
I took her old rosary, the one she kept in an old box,
Before anyone else would ransack her possessions,
I prayed a prayer of redemption but before I could talk,
She said, never look back or hold on to obsessions.
But I placed the beads and hymn book in my rucksack,
My young rebel soul would never see her eyes again,
And as the years...
A stream of thoughts embraced me in a sad rhapsody,
But I, drunk on whiskey and rye cried a rivulet instead,
Running through my mind like an unforgettable melody.
I took her old rosary, the one she kept in an old box,
Before anyone else would ransack her possessions,
I prayed a prayer of redemption but before I could talk,
She said, never look back or hold on to obsessions.
But I placed the beads and hymn book in my rucksack,
My young rebel soul would never see her eyes again,
And as the years...
#sadness
#death
#memories
#cancer
#memorial
575 reads
4 Comments
DetectiveOGasm
Poem Published
20th Jan 2025 11:57am
20th Jan 2025 11:57am
In Every Frame
1990
ABC Television
Laura Palmer
Waiting one week
for another trip
into that fascinating
and terrifying landscape
A master at the helm,
the truest champion
of the creative process
If you know,
you really know
No wonder I like Blue Velvet
and Lost Highways.
Eternally grateful!
ABC Television
Laura Palmer
Waiting one week
for another trip
into that fascinating
and terrifying landscape
A master at the helm,
the truest champion
of the creative process
If you know,
you really know
No wonder I like Blue Velvet
and Lost Highways.
Eternally grateful!
#death
#gratitude
#memorial #respect
#memorial #respect
49 reads
2 Comments
NoQuarter
Poem Published
20th Jan 2025 4:56am
20th Jan 2025 4:56am
Spirits And The Box
He keeps the box on a shelf,
small and battered, like it's lived a thousand lives.
Dust gathers on the corners, but he doesn’t touch it, not since the day he put it there, not since the day he stopped believing in goodbye.
The bottle sits heavy in his hand,
Its amber glow the only warmth in the room.
He drinks like the world is ending,
like the burn will ease the pain in his chest.
But the spirit in the box never fades.
Some nights he swears he hears her voice,
soft and distant, like it's traveling through time,
the creak of the...
small and battered, like it's lived a thousand lives.
Dust gathers on the corners, but he doesn’t touch it, not since the day he put it there, not since the day he stopped believing in goodbye.
The bottle sits heavy in his hand,
Its amber glow the only warmth in the room.
He drinks like the world is ending,
like the burn will ease the pain in his chest.
But the spirit in the box never fades.
Some nights he swears he hears her voice,
soft and distant, like it's traveling through time,
the creak of the...
#death
74 reads
4 Comments
deliabear
Debbie
Debbie
Poem Published
19th Jan 2025 11:21pm
19th Jan 2025 11:21pm
Leaf Cadavers
The driving miniscule flakes of snow.
Confim the world is a shaken globe.
Dark brown leaf cadavers can still be seen.
Crumbled in death poking through the newborn powder.
The haunted silence is even louder.
Life touching death, unusually serene.
Ghosts of autumn yearn for snowy winter
For a short while, the white world is void of the sinister.
The wind inhales a frozen breath.
A frigid cold whisper upon my neck.
Exhalations of steam, blow at the iced vanilla trees.
Bird population take haven in the branches.
To behold the...
Confim the world is a shaken globe.
Dark brown leaf cadavers can still be seen.
Crumbled in death poking through the newborn powder.
The haunted silence is even louder.
Life touching death, unusually serene.
Ghosts of autumn yearn for snowy winter
For a short while, the white world is void of the sinister.
The wind inhales a frozen breath.
A frigid cold whisper upon my neck.
Exhalations of steam, blow at the iced vanilla trees.
Bird population take haven in the branches.
To behold the...
#death
#LifeCycle
#snow #winter
#snow #winter
74 reads
12 Comments
Lilliputian
Poem Published
19th Jan 2025 8:44pm
19th Jan 2025 8:44pm
In Death
When I become one,
yet again, with clay,
speak to my grave.
Tell the molded soil,
the things you’ve kept from me—
things I sought in my life,
and no longer will in my death.
yet again, with clay,
speak to my grave.
Tell the molded soil,
the things you’ve kept from me—
things I sought in my life,
and no longer will in my death.
#death
#grief
#regret
73 reads
wallyroo92
Bumped 19th Jan 2025 00:59am
7th Sep 2019 2:52am
7th Sep 2019 2:52am
The Things I Did
He joined the Marines at eighteen. A soldier through and through. He was tall, sturdy and always friendly. Daniel was my neighbor for nearly five years. He had moved from the high desert to the suburbs of L.A. so he could be closer to his grown children.
“I have six” he once told me. “Seven” he corrected himself a second later. Two from three ex-wives and one boy whom he had picked up during a mission while his platoon was making their way through the country side in Vietnam in early ‘73. The village had been raided just a few days before they got there. There were bodies...
“I have six” he once told me. “Seven” he corrected himself a second later. Two from three ex-wives and one boy whom he had picked up during a mission while his platoon was making their way through the country side in Vietnam in early ‘73. The village had been raided just a few days before they got there. There were bodies...
#soldiers
#war
#death #suicide
#death #suicide
623 reads
7 Comments
backdeckbenny
Poem Published
17th Jan 2025 11:23pm
17th Jan 2025 11:23pm
Memento Mori
Some of us will wear black soon
Some will forever lie still
Got nothing to do with a deity
Got nothing to do with God's will
It's simply the way that life happens
It's not in any God's scheme
Death forces eyes to stay open
To witness this life is a dream.
Some will forever lie still
Got nothing to do with a deity
Got nothing to do with God's will
It's simply the way that life happens
It's not in any God's scheme
Death forces eyes to stay open
To witness this life is a dream.
#death
#TruthOfLife
49 reads
3 Comments
randyjohnson
Poem Published
17th Jan 2025 5:11pm
17th Jan 2025 5:11pm
Uecker
Many people are sad because he's no longer here.
Forty years ago, I watched him on Mr. Belvedere.
He played baseball and was a sportscaster as well.
Uecker became a success, he certainly did not fail.
If you're wondering if Bob was talented, the answer is yes.
It shouldn't come as a surprise to you that he was a success.
Uecker proved to the entire world that he could act.
He helped to make Mr. Belvedere a hit and that's a fact.
Forty years ago, I watched him on Mr. Belvedere.
He played baseball and was a sportscaster as well.
Uecker became a success, he certainly did not fail.
If you're wondering if Bob was talented, the answer is yes.
It shouldn't come as a surprise to you that he was a success.
Uecker proved to the entire world that he could act.
He helped to make Mr. Belvedere a hit and that's a fact.
#death
#nonfiction
#sports
53 reads
0 Comments
Vision_of_insanity
Poem Published
17th Jan 2025 11:39am
17th Jan 2025 11:39am
Imprisoned
When sorrow fills the void
I torment those who I adore
An homage for the living lost
I cannot hide anymore
I torment those who I adore
An homage for the living lost
I cannot hide anymore
#dark
#death
#FeelingLost
#love
#sadness
61 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems about Death
