Sad poems capture the sadness in words, helping people understand and share their feelings. Sadness is an emotion that people describe as a feeling of sorrow and unhappiness.
It is a normal and natural part of the human experience. Sad poems create a connection between the writer and the reader. They ask readers to step into someone else’s shoes and feel what they feel.
Sad poems make us realize that it’s okay to feel sad sometimes. It’s like a friend saying, “I get it, and it’s alright to feel this way.”
It’s like having a conversation with someone who understands what you’re going through.
Reading poems, especially ones that connect with your emotions, can be a gentle part of that journey.
Let’s read some of the famous sad poems and make the journey easy.
‘Fowls in the Frith’.
Foulës in the frith,
The fishës in the flod,
And I mon waxë wod;
Much sorwe I walkë with
For beste of bon and blod.
In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad’.
A. E. Housman, ‘
In my own shire, if I was sad,
Homely comforters I had:
The earth, because my heart was sore,
Sorrowed for the son she bore
I Measure Every Grief I Meet’.
By Emily Dickinson
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, eyes –
I wonder if It weighs like Mine –
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long –
Or did it just begin –
I could not tell the Date of Mine –
It feels so old a pain …
‘Ode on Melancholy’.
By John Keats,
But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud …
‘The Soote Season’.
The soote season, that bud and blome furth bringes,
With grene hath clad the hill and eke the vale:
The nightingale with fethers new she singes:
The turtle to her make hath tolde her tale …
‘Complaint.
By Thomas Hoccleve,
After that hervest Inned had his sheves,
and that the broune season of myhelmess
was come and gan the trees robbe of ther leves
That grene had bene and in lusty fresshness,
and them in-to colowre of yelowness
hadd dyne and doune throwne vndar foote
that chaunge sank into myne herte roote …
Not For Me
sun shines but not for me
moon lights but not for me
flower blooms but not for me
loneliness swarms just for me
Vincent Millay,
I know what my heart is like
Since your love died:
It is like a hollow ledge
Holding a little pool
Left there by the tide,
A little tepid pool,
Drying inward from the edge.
‘The Debt’.
By Paul Laurence Dunbar,
This is the debt I pay
Just for one riotous day,
Years of regret and grief,
Sorrow without relief.
Pay it I will to the end —
Until the grave, my friend,
Gives me a true release —
Gives me the clasp of peace.
Slight was the thing I bought,
Small was the debt I thought,
Poor was the loan at best —
God! but the interest!
Until We Meet Again
Those special memories of you
will always bring a smile
if only I could have you back
for just a little while
Then we could sit and talk again
just like we use to do
you always meant so very much
and always will do too
The fact that you’re no longer there
will always cause me pain
but you’re forever in my heart
until we meet again
Alone I Wander Through The Night
By David Valerio
Alone I wander through the night
Searching for a love that’s true
But all I find is emptiness
And a heart that’s feeling blue
I thought love was meant to last
But it’s just a fleeting game
Leaving me with shattered pieces
Of a love that will never be the same
I try to mend my broken heart
But the wounds are far too deep
And all that’s left is loneliness
A feeling that I can’t keep
So I’ll walk this lonely road
With memories of love in tow
Hoping that someday I’ll find
A love that will forever grow
Your Memory
On the coming of your memory
The thunderstorms of your memories:
Quiver the ground of my heart virtually;
It never set me free to live independently,
From the cage, where I am living for centuries.
I neither of can hide and escape:
Myself from its flow ;
Which is running under-mine!
It all the time makes me feel very low.
My soul gets writhe in the longing of the past days
But my heart and brain don’t want mercy pays:
Somehow, I know I have nothing certainly,
But the memories for spending my life lonely.]
Silent Screams
By Aaron
Can’t you hear my silent screams?
They are so loud they echo in my dreams.
Behind this face that carries a smile
Lies a dark road that goes on mile after mile.
My silent screams have been going on for years,
But it always falls on so many deaf ears.
How can they hear these silent screams in my mind?
They can’t hear my thoughts if I keep telling them I’m fine.
What can I tell them? These silent screams carry no words.
It’s just feelings of sadness and darkness that come in its herds.
How can I explain so people understand this?
It’s like walking around in a suffocating black mist.
It’s holding on to happiness like holding water in your hands.
It just trickles between your fingers and disappears into the sands.
I can’t explain how this feels; it’s so extreme,
So I hold my mouth shut to cover my silent screams.
Behind The Mask
By Melisa Bernards
Hiding the hurt, hiding the pain,
Hiding the tears that fall like rain.
Saying I’m fine when I’m anything but.
This ache in my soul rips at my gut.
My skin is on fire; I burn from within.
The calm on my face is an ongoing sin.
The world must stay out; I’ve built up a wall.
My fragile lie will collapse should it ever fall.
Loneliness consumes me; it eats away the years
Until my life is swallowed by unending fears.
Waiting for someone to see I wear a mask
And care enough to remove it; is that too much to ask?
Gift of Flight
Set free from my cage, and not feeling my age
I took wing on silent breath of air
Aloft and caught up in a forever dream
I hadn’t a worry or care
Over white mountain peaks, and rivers blue,
Green pastures, and majestic horizons I flew
Never have I known such contentment and love
As I have from unparalleled stations above
Further still I flew, and higher too
My companions, the sun, clouds, and wind
Enveloped in splendor, I suddenly knew
It was a beginning, not an end
Until at last, I came to rest
On a perch too high for eagles to crest
Where my eyes will always look down on you
And my love be the light that sees you through
Scars
By Laura R
Here on my arm lies a mark that I made.
When I was so low, I cut with a blade
To punish my body for being a mess,
Though here is my testament, I must confess…
That seeing these scars left on my arms, legs, and chest
Makes me realize I was in a place of no rest;
I feel guilty inside for leaving this token.
Now I will see and remember that I was so broken.
But seeing these scars helps me see
That I survived so much trauma and now I am free.
So I ask you now to stand with me and fight,
To show all these demons what they’re doing is not right.
You won the battle of good versus bad.
You are still alive and are no longer sad.
Here on my arm lies a mark of survival.
I got through my hate and beat my self-rival.
This is all about sad poems.