I cut down so the bone
I beg for u to come back home
I was lost then I was found.
But u left me behind on the ground
Now your gone my soul has turned to stone
Heart so black and cold
Please come back home

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4points

Juan Hernandez

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Unnamed Hooman

Unnamed Hooman

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3 years ago

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Nice! I guess I’m not the only one who writes sad poetry

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A poem you asked me to write,
They say I should go into light.
I try to, every single day,
But it will never go my way.
I want this poem to be very long,
It feels as if I’m writing a song.
Poetry can be happy and full of flowers,
Or it can be sad, with thunder and showers.
This poem is a sad one,
There will be no sun.
There will be no flowers, nor cheers,
No birds, or animals, just silent tears.
I sit alone now, clenching my fists,
I pound the floor, and see my wrists.
Covered in marker, filled with drawings,
I sniff a tear away, and ignore the callings.
I hug my knees in shame, my head was throbbing,
I realized I wasn’t just crying, but sobbing.
The floor soaked in tears, my paper covered,
When suddenly I felt light, as if I hovered.
The salty water floated away,
My room was no longer just ordinary grey.
I looked around and saw the galaxies,
The stars were all quiet, in their families.
I floated around in my cloud of doom,
The vacuum of space had filled my room.
The air was leaving at lightning speed,
Stealing my largest wardrobe to my smallest seed.
My time was beginning to run out,
My brain began to fill with doubt.
I realized that my time was up,
I only just became a grown up.
My family cried, and started to grieve,
Because they knew, I had to leave.

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Final score:

1point

Unnamed Hooman

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3 years ago

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you should be a professional poet, that was amazing

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Violets are cool,
But I prefer roses.
Follow the rule,
Post before it closes.
BoredPanda is an interesting website, indeed,
Filled with people to laugh with you.
But some commenters only feel greed,
While some make people feel blue.
These pandas are bored,
They need something new.
The pandas all snored,
Drifting off from the sound of heavy dew.
The journey continues, in search of a hero,
To save us from the haters.
Although the chances may be zero,
We will be rid of the traitors.

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Final score:

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Unnamed Hooman

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