Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
SMS 5d
No one talks about the left over baby food
All the toys littering the floor
The lingering smell that covers the room
Or the simple sorrow hanging in the air.

when a baby dies
all you can do is hold their hand
kiss their soft heads
and whisper how proud you are
That they’ve come this far
That they fought so hard
all you can do is pretend to be strong

But once your baby’s heartbeat fades
And the nurses give you a moment alone
Your hands feel cold
Your legs shake without purpose
And your heart aches

The nursery door stays shut at home
The toys placed softly on the un-used bed
And every time you pass
You creak the door open
And the sweet smell of your angel
Continues to tear you apart.
Stella Nov 9
I miss deceased people I never met.
They didn't all want to go.
I mourn with the people I still don't know.
Their afflictions shake me to my core.

Death tolls of tragedies skyrocket.
Sorrow fills the earth.
I don't know if I'm alone,
but I grieve all their precious souls.

If I carry the sad burdens of widows,
Holding illness, loss, and despair,
I hope they feel a little better.
Knowing that I care.

I miss deceased people I never met.
I'll never know who they were.
They laughed, they cried, they lived their lives.
All I know is that they died.
nim Oct 30
maybe i am mourning my own death;
perhaps i've been dying for far too long
Summer Oct 29
You told me
there was a certain beauty in the never-return —
cherries wither into whispers of smoke,
river shivers upon winter's stroke
sparrows mourn and sing and forget,
how we used to be strangers, lovers, then strangers again
deep in the darkness you stared at me, smiling
with a mouth of pearly teeth
crushing the piling blossoms underneath, saying
I better remember this fading fragrance, and
carry it to your grave,
for this is our last parade.
Wrote this in a haste, didn't think it's good enough
Naeem Oct 18
deprived of a higher purpose

a reason for my meaningless existence

journey of discovery

a break from the mundane

repetitive nature of self-isolation

alone but never lonely

not until she crossed my mind for a final time

and so I awake each afternoon

dreading the coming hours

of mediocre party tricks

all in an effort to waste passing time

ironically the commodity

that everyone runs out of
Feeling less like myself with every passing minute
Satvik gupta Oct 8
Sometimes you fail in your life
the door shuts , the curtain falls ,  the wind freezes , the water stop altering in different containers . Everything just ends , a complete state of stillness , nothing but just you and your loneliness.
Out of nowhere you start to realize about ,your mistakes , your deeds , your acts , etc etc. Everything clings your hands and u just want to vanish your existence from here but that too is unavailable for the moment . Nothing works , then , then u start hating yourself , your dilemma grows and screams in each and every cell of your body .  Negativity , Negativity , Negativity

Even though you try to stop this but your efforts become futile . You realize your nature , your feelings , your burns , your stitches , your despairs ,yours regrets , your failures , and what else not !
Flow of sand siezes in your hourglass , you are left alone , no-one is around except your new friend ,loneliness.

The last leaf of your plant welts like your dreary face . You fall apart ,you wither ,  your growth stops .  
But you know what ,  "Mistakes are like gravity , always keeps you down " but up to some extent after that it converts to "FAILURE"

We just need to realize that level  ,  but it ain't that easy my friend.

Sleeping with regrets daily ,
Even I will have a bright future ,
maybe .
Nylee Sep 15
How do you **** a life?

But you do it so well
what expertise in
the choices
tone, words

you mourn too
sweet little nothings
pitiful stare
and nice
share a piece of cake
so sugary

and cherry on top
all the facts,
I deleted from my mind
restored back
It is the rush of feelings
too many at the same time

You have squeezed my
Soul out
I am empty
Inside out,
executed in precision
I can never mend
my pieces back.

I am short of breath,
You did it so well,
or am I short of me?
Phil B Aug 18
Cold empty chrysalis
And pig slop -

Suckle the hearthfire **** of mother earth
we praise ourselves on being diverse
but we are the biodiversity,
spread so thin we can't nourish the hungry and thirsty.

The pale moon shines on a world somehow even colder,
we consume the birthday cake leaving only the smoulders,

Built monuments and towers to a false kind of power,
mycellium clouds bloom come to consume what is ours,
The midnight clock ticking to doomsday, now minutes from hours.

We believe that we control the elements, but loom they,
The ancient forces come soon to smother and cover in dirt
this mausoleum soon to be crematorium Earth.

And when the smoke clears and lifted is the haze
I dream of a peace on Earth without the human race.
-elixir- Aug 7
The plane was her last ride,
back to her home
from the deserts of dreams.
The modern plague of her times
drained the last bit out of her.

The ride began as she huddled
her child and spouse close
as if the she knew it was their last
embrace and warmth.
They fell into the indefinite slumber.

The rain lashed it's fury and
winds howled death.
The pilot's last breath was put into
stopping the airborne casket of hopes.
As it skid and crashed them.

Their hopes to live remain immortalized
in their indefinite sleep,
as we mourn their loss,
through the tears of pain that
tear out our folly.
My soul grieves for the families of the plane accident in Kerala. The stranded children make me cry as they try to find their parents. The landslides and floods add up to the worries. Not to mention the covid-19 virus.
The blast in Lebanon was also another terrible mishap, a huge number of people have lost their home and belongings and have become homeless in a matter of seconds. My heart is laden with sadness, is there any hope at this point? where is the world heading to?
Our love was like a fictious honey ***,
Never in a thousand years would  i
Have peeked in to find out
If our honey *** really had any honey because
I loved the thought of existence of that honeypot
More than the possibility of having honey in it.

My Fictious honeypot gave me  
A taste of what it feels like to have hope,

I wasn't disappointed because
We didnt have a honey in our fictious ***.

I was disappointed because we broke the ***
and We will never be able to go back to the way it was.
No matter what we say to ourselves, When we lose hope in a relationship there is nothing really that can be done regarding that, Seems like I never really had any relationship to begin with rather than a Fictious Honeypot without Honey.
Next page