Loneliness Poems | Examples of Loneliness Poetry

Inert was morning. ...

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An outcast this night, I mournfully sigh with gloom: but, I make war, fight! to rebel against the doom, and emptiness of my room. ...

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i keep a teacup with a cracked rim— it doesn’t hold warmth for long but i drink from it anyway. the hallway light flickers like it’s unsure if it wants to stay on. some nights, i understand. there’s a coat in the closet that no one wears, but i leave it hanging. the walls don’t echo when i speak softly. so i don’t. not anymore. i fold myself into the quiet corners...

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I stand here, cursed. Soughted upon a brim of hope. Yet darkness be it me for swallows. My site is blinded by my blood red soul. My hands are numb by the sharpness of my beastly nature. The wildly hairs, knitted to my’th skin. My ivory gates, beckoned me to crimson devour. I.. I am forever doom, by...

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When the world hates you It's such a lonely place Crawling out of bed each day Forgotten in each and every way Grasping at straws to build nest Every minute is a torturing test Blow away by unkindness Held together buy a fine web Of sorrow and unhappiness Each word thrown your way Cut like a knife through softened clay Leaving a scar and empty space Not...

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Whenever I spot red-bearded Origin, the unhoused street musician of Budapest who asks for a donation, not making a protest with a grin; don't be amazed if I'm the first to drop coins in his empty cup: does anybody, not in a rush, ever stop and give him some attention? Does he ever feel humiliation? He's too young to...

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How do I explain how desolate life feels without you? The heart craves your presence and the eyes search only for you. You're gone, maybe not forever, But this feels like eternity. How do I tell you how lonely I feel even with a contact list full of names? People who would speak. Yet I wait for just one thing, A long...

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The embers of my bitter revenge burn low, and I'm left with lingering anger and disappointment. Their hatred for me doesn't approach the profound self-loathing that plagues my existence. In a final, desperate plea, I raise my gaze skyward. Even though I have been shown little compassion in my life, I implore the divine power of God, a figure known...

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Earthquakes of bedlam quell As tectonic plates of emotional instability cease shifting. The tears of a discarded clown, suspended in animation— Numbness overtakes. Masks slip, shattering. Shards scrape, lacerating apathetic flesh, Revealing the painted doll underneath. Remove its colourful costume; Discover marionette strings embedded within a fraying back. ...

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I did not ask for the world to stop — just for the echo to answer. but silence grew its own wings. so i followed the quiet, to the river, to wild grass, to birds that sing before dawn. there, i learned something soft and strong: that I can keep walking even if the stars stay hidden Now— I walk not to be followed, but to feel the ground under my feet. To breathe and know: i...

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Candle tongue stirs the skin within my skin, Glass red with so many tears — Romance personified by the melting of wick, Though shadows drone on walls, a phantasmic tango These French lips worth reading — Inside heart highs and lows Timing Glimpsing Stealing Candle tongue stirs the skin within my skin — These French lips worth reading, Stealing ...

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A man stands at the edge of a silent park, watching the wind carry leaves like forgotten prayers. No one waves back at the crows. He wonders if the trees know they’re growing. The sky is a pale witness— indifferent to the ache below. He asks questions without shape, the kind that drip between hours and vanish. Once, he thought love might be...

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b a n g b a n g! I couldn't believe I just fired some shots there she laid... belly up counting the dust dead as loneliness buried in silence trouble b o l d l y stared straight at me my stomach growled, loosened a knot~ sweat...

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how long and sourly sobs the lonely heart depends on how grave the weight which grieves the tears pouring from the despondent spirit’s pores.— a witness, too, will know the surly sort of rain that beats down harshly on the court called Sorrow Drive.—sure seems like nothing cheers up the—nor nothing soothes the—nasty fears nesting in somber nooks.—no, only art comes close to...

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you are sick, and I know that that’s why I will never be mad at you I can understand and feel your pain perfectly your brain’s your biggest enemy always fighting against you and I could never blame you for that because you didn’t ask for be what you are you didn’t asked for being...

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