"depressing" poems
It sounds ridiculous but only I feel productive when I'm doing nothing.
Sitting back, just relaxing.
Popping blue beans, burning bowls of green.
And just thinking.
Daydreaming about how things could have been.
How things could still be.
But how things will probably be.
Just close your eyes and let music be your guide.
Entire lives constructed and played out
in grand fashion. A world so detailed
I would rather get lost,
And never come back to this travesty of a society,
so raw and primal.
so human.
My world is so beautiful and yet so depressing
because it's what ours could be, but never will become.
Anything to distract me from this.
The 24 year old burnout grinding through school because there aren't many options left.
So where will I'll be in 5 years?
I wont.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 4:50 AM UTC
*
Depressing eyes invites,
Seductive gaze stimulate
Her lust growing solid.
Bulky **** hurting stiff,
Open spacious for me,
Her flexible glossy lips get,
Bare soft tissue touches,
tender parts yielding wet,
Thrusting deep within!
*
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 7:26 PM UTC
I am anorexic
Not that you see that or anything
Not yet
I look healthy
Jubilant
Happy
You think that all the problems stopped after
You took
Tumblr away from me
It didn't
If anything things got worse
Progressively Slowly
But steady and sure
So here I am
Weaning my stomach and mind
Off of the food I
Gorged on previously
And I have found myself
Not losing weight
Which is depressing
And sad
Especially to me
Because more extreme measures
Are going to be taken
Measures that you won't know about either
But as long as I can see my hips
Then I am happy
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 10:21 PM UTC
sadness
dark, depressing
weeping, screaming, dying
feelings, emotions, expressions, experiences
smiling, squealing, soaring
bright, joyful
happiness
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 9:35 PM UTC
Bipolar, if you had asked me what I knew about it six months ago I would have said it means that a person goes from being really happy to really sad sometimes or, if I would be honest I would have said I hadn't a clue about it.
Bipolar means to touch heaven and hell.
This year began with me being in a severe depression, often holding a loaded gun to my head with a finger lightly depressing the trigger. Bipolar, after all, is the highest killer of all psychiatric illnesses with 1 out of 5 committing suicide and 1/2 attempting it. I felt completely alienated from anyone- severely out of place in the world, as if my birth was some sort of horrible mistake.
But I'm holding onto hope, hope that all these meds(Lamictal, Saphris, Abilify) may eventually enable me to have a life again. This year I lost my sister to suicide(she was 27 and also bipolar), I cannot put anyone through the pain that I've felt due to her leaving like she did. I must "carry that weight" as the Beatles would put it.
If you too are Bipolar I would love to chat, please message me. I'm looking for a friend who can relate, hell, I'm just looking for a friend.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC
Why is hellopoetry.com black and white? I've always wondered about this... why my colorful photographs are required to travel back in time. How does this effect the poetry in any way, shape, or form? But I understand the wisdom of this design now. And it sets a great metaphor for all of the people of the pen involved in this truly noble motion, this secret society for people with passion, talent, and troubled minds and souls. Hello Poetry is black and white not because it has to be monochromatic and modern, but because us poets fill these pages with enough inovativeness and color already with our words, ideas, thoughts, songs, senryus, ballads, heartbreaks, insecurities, that adding literal color to this website would be overwhelming. These soft undertones of gray, black, and white may be considered drab and depressing to some, but to us poets it represents timelessness. And this is probably why we are all here. Hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, or even yearly publishing poems. Because we all know we are not going to live forever, and we are so entirely insignificant in the broad scheme of things and of the universe itself, that it is a bit comforting and helpful to have this coping mechanism or soft blankie to calm our fears, that this literature we write, however insignificant it may be, is absolutley permanent. And that maybe someday it will be remembered so a small bit of us may live on. Tom Riddle knew the needs and wants of man kind before anybody else realized it. Maybe he was just trying to cope with the fact that he is insignificant. These poems are all our Horcruxes so viveamus per camenam nostram.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 5:19 PM UTC
She was only a child, the summer of '15
she had the world on a string, her heart
so enclosed in a boys hands, she could never
touch it.
She had dreams, flailing around at the seams,
when it was time to follow a new endeavor
her string seemed to tear, along the middle.
She had insecurities, tall enough to
reach out and choke her dead.
She had no idea,
her heart would have scurried at the first
sight of lust,
and forget the first
one she had.
She had insecurities, enough to crack her
porcelain skin.
She showed them off, like a new
depressing outfit, like a filthy rag.
But when she did, you told her,
"You're a *****
She had insecurities, enough to **** you off.
Luckily, enough to **** her off too.
My insecurities aren't something
to determine my charisma by,
try again.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
I am stuck in 50 shades of gray
Nothing ******
But depressing
Like a bird who nestles in a tree
A bear who hibernates
A lion trapped in a cage
I find comfort in the gray
This is now my home
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
You're responsible
For the sleepless nights
Depressing poetry
And self hate
That I am made of now.
You did this to me
But who did it to you?
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 3:02 AM UTC
Education is the ladder.
Education is the key.
Education is the mother of success.
Education is the process of receiving or giving systematic instruction.
Enlightening experience of learners.
Learners stop making teachers lose the war of education because of being distracted by the social world.
Boys stop believing in drugs and alcohol because alcohol is an intoxicating drink that slow down and depressing the brain.
Girls stop believing in affairs and believe in education because your certificates will never leave you but boys can leave you and left you with gift of tears in your back.
Study hard because time wasted never regain.
When you are willing to learn you will stay humble and be the good coach to your friends.
Principal words
Time is money if you are wasting your own time you are wasting your own money.
Remember perseverance is the mother of success.
Education is the key .
Education is the ladder.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
Listening to these depressing songs.
It's ironically giving me the will to be strong,
And I don't mind if they're being played for long.
They're making the oceans of my heart rift,
Letting my soul drift in the cold water.
Staring up into the sun,
Ironically it seems fun.
Dipping in my own sorrow,
Urging me to press play,
Again and again,
Making me feel a little bit insane.
I'm enjoying dwelling in my inexplicable pain,
Making me realize,
That maybe,
Sometimes,
One can be happy by just being sad.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 7:59 AM UTC
It's been a day or maybe a few,
That I haven't heard from you.
It's not exactly depressing yet,
But I know I'll cry soon, and get-
Cold sweats.
It's not like you'd care,
You don't give a ****
I'm just sort of there,
To you, I'm throwing a fit.
And you say I have no right to.
Well what did you expect me to do-
When you're telling people such hyperbole?
Your mispresentations have flustered me.
I've never met someone so treacherous.
I trusted you and you put on a display,
Which I must say was completely impetuous.
Where did you come up with such nonsense?
I guess I never meant anything to you,
I feel like I was just a fill in for others.
Others whom you actually befriended,
Or maybe they're just like me.
Discovering that you're really a bully.
An emotionally abusive person.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
Is it really this hard
to find people I can go back and forth in discussion with
about Buddhist and Hindu theology compared and contrasted against Christian and Yoruba
I want to scream and shout and dance with somebody over Janet Jackson's new album
and at the same time
feel the heat and talk with somebody about how extremely sad and depressing
but oh so good Giovanni's Room was
I want to be able to speak with somebody whom can quote Malcolm X and Kafka in the same breath
Somebody who could see the logic of Pac and Immortal Technique on the same piece
with the Budos Band or Mulatu on the back track
I want to know people whom know
just exactly who
Suki Lee and Bayard Rustin are
can we talk about Jacob Kinohoor's ***
at least for a moment
then get into some B.B. King or Johnny Cash
have you seen Dune
the one from the eighties
James McAvoy shirtless
as well as John Goodman’s acting
were only good things about the other
if you read it
even better
what about the ***** that sat by the door
Or
killer clowns from outer space
let's be shady and point out all the inaccuracies on the history and discovery and channels
praying for that day
that's not in February
They show Shaka Zulu in full
without commercial interruption
Or maybe a documentary about native American people
with actual native actors
that do not depict them all as either
plains people
Or Inuit
Cause you already know
not everybody is Eskimo
then let's put on our own private production of legally blonde
followed by encore presentations of the classic scene
Of Miss Celie and miss Ofelia going in over Harpo
can I discuss with you
how the Patriot act nullifies everything in constitution
And the bill of rights
even though they never were intended to be permanent any way
It would be nice to not have to explain a Corporatocracy
all my life Ive been into Egyptology
You do know that Imhotep was the actual founder of medicine
by a good 2000 years
not that Hippocrat
the thing is
I'm still learning
when attempt to delve that deeply into people
which I don't even consider that deep
They often misunderstand
They often concluded without thinking
maybe
just maybe
©Christopher F. Brown 2015
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
What's with all the sadness?
What's with all the grief?
What's with all the broken hearts,
That cannot find relief?
I know this world has sorrow,
And often beats you down,
But why dose every poet seem,
To always have a frown?
Do they never see the beauty?
The wonder that I see?
Instead of death and chaos,
Can we get some harmony?
The sky may gray in winter,
But summer turns it blue.
And though pain plagues the best of us,
We have to push on through.
So what's with all the sadness?
what's with all the grief?
I see the world with gladness,
And that's my firm belief.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 6:25 PM UTC
Where I was, was bad,
But where I am is worse.
I feel like they’re taking away who I am,
Filling my bloodstream with anti-depressants,
Forcing me to become someone I’m not
Someone I don’t want to be.
The fact remains that my sadness defined me
Struggling against the medication
Desperately attempting to hold onto the part of me that’s me
Wanting so badly for my days to mean something
Instead of the same bland depressing schedule I face everyday
The pills do nothing but supress my suicidal thoughts to my subconcious
So I'm forced to fake a smile, one unlike any other.
This one is to keep them from increasing my dosage,
And I'm scared.
I've never felt so alone
This is what I get
For asking for help
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC
There are many strangers who came in my life
I don't know their name,
I don't know how they look like.
They are just blur faces
But their words are like graces.
I sometimes wonder how they look
I sometimes think of them
As characters in a book.
They are the ones
who take off my mind
from the depressing course of my life.
It isn't bad to know strangers,
As they say,
"Strangers are people you shouldn't trust
Don't talk to them or else you'll become become a prey."
Strangers can be good,
Strangers can be bad,
You want to be happy?
You talk to strangers
To make your life less sad.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
I used to know things about people, it was all too easy for me to figure them out.
I used to dread the day when I had found out I've failed, when I couldn't save someone. Strange or depressing as it may seem, I'm glad I haven't had to attend all the funerals I tried to prepare myself for.
I used to know if someone had ever been touched wrongly. Unwillingly. How far past their "no's" were gotten. I can't do that anymore, I don't know how to help anymore.
I used to cry at all the pain, I used to sob myself to sleep. These days I try anything just to feel a single tear on my cheek.
I used to hear things without finding or ever questioning the source. I used to sing out my struggles to the sounds I heard while crying on my backyard's swing set. I still hear it sometimes, but maybe that's just my imagination.
My mom told me I used to see angels. All I can remember was being scared of the footprints on my ceiling. Maybe they were angels, maybe they were demons. Maybe they were just early signs of schizophrenia.
Was all of that just preparation?
Was it all just a coincidence?
Is this real? Is it God's work? Is it fate?
Do I believe in any of that anymore???
Who knew that a conversation over cigarettes with you would leave me so confused.
Is our craziness compatible, like taking a drug together and having the same trip?
Or maybe we're gifted with seeing things for how they really are.
Or maybe its just you.
Maybe I'm lost forever.
I need to walk your path.
I heard sounds in the woods with you
But was it the same music?
Do we share the same insanity?
Tell me if its a blessing or a curse.
Tell me if its worth all the pain.
Tell me if I can handle it... if I won't **** myself first.
Does the light in everything outweigh the darkness?
Tell me what you think about souls now.
Does everything live forever?
Can you still see their light if they're dead?
Tell me what you feel.
Tell me what you know now.
I want your truths.
This has to be real.
My world has been flipped and turned inside out.
But finally, for once, I think everything makes sense.
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 3:12 AM UTC
Everyone leaves, you hear people say it but do you really understand it?
Everyone that is in your life will go away
I am fifteen years old and I know this
I find that depressing
As a teenager you're supposed to be crazy and fall in love
And have the ability to believe in miracles and happily ever after
Well I don't
I am a teenager who understands that love is temporary
Don't trick yourself into believing in forever because forever will end
You think he will stay just because he promised he would
Well promises are just words
I was foolish enough to believe in words until I realized that everyone is full of ****
I am fifteen years old and I am done believing
Believing that you will end up with the prince
Because I know the prince will just ***** you over
Promises turn into lies, hello turns to goodbye
And love, well it dies
What do you do when you give everything to love
And love comes around and destroys you
How can something so beautiful become so ugly
I am fifteen years old I am scared of ghosts and I am scared of love
I am afraid to give my heart to someone because they could break it
They could tear me into a million pieces and destroy everything I am
The boy I love could simply leave just because he feels like it
Love is dangerous
But of course I want love
I want kissing and cuddling and having someone there for me no matter what
I think that is beautiful
What I don't want is the heartbreak because he changed his mind
I don't need more sleepless nights and I sure as hell don't need more pain
I need love, everyone does but I can't have love
Because I am afraid and fear is a powerful thing
I am afraid of ghosts so I don't watch scary movies, and I stay away from all things paranormal
I am afraid of love, so I don't let my feelings control me and I push people away because there's always a chance something could happen
Something beautiful and perfect like those red roses on Valentines Day
But the roses die,
There colors change from red to black
The beautiful perfect things turn into your worst nightmares
Love turns to hate and your happy ending slowly fades
I am fifteen years old and I am terrified of love
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
I hurt
I think it's loss and disappointment from
"Hopes" that were never born,
Which leaves me so forlorn.
Oh, and I cry
almost every day now
and I sigh,
then he always asks why....
The pain in my heart,
Why does it go so deep?
the way I weep;
I grieve so hard,
they say I even call & cry in my sleep.
Pictures in my mind of children at play
a dream, a hope, never to be.
My grandfathers were veterans of war, they say.
Agent orange says "one out of four" you see.
Uncle Sam says "no compensation" for me,
No big family to be all around me.
I think I'll give up on me,
sometimes....
"Please make it go away!" I say,
he can't,
and so he turns away.
Our future we cannot see,
afraid to dream,
afraid for me.
Going through the motions,
trying to do what's right.
Tried all the magic potions,
but too much DNA's twisted up too tight.
Now I'm hurtin and bleedin all of the time!
Doctor says its gotta go, this womb of mine.
Adenomyosis, got into me, says I'll be fine.
But, no more babies! don't you see
I was not finished with my family!
I dont want to, but I know
I gotta go.
Now its gone,
still PMS-ing
Now I'm not healin' right!
Its depressing.....
8 weeks now, still not released
and the mourning has not eased
Anger abounds when i awake
but I can't eat,
so then I shake.
So I just cry,
and blessed be,
ask God, Jesus and the angels
to have mercy on me
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
You are my morning cup of coffee,
My hot, steamy, caffeinated beverage made to wake me up,
I sip you,
Bitter,
Some sugar to cheer you up?
I dowse you in vanilla cream…
Any better my darling?
How come you are so nasty?
Not a morning person either?
Well I can't blame you,
Why do I think I drink so much of you?
Because I like you?
Well I do,sorta, the effects you bring to me are quite uplifting,
I shake,
Nervously,
Oh you startle me and delight me,
I feel comforted as you break open into my bloodstream,
My body on fire and ready to start my long and trying day,
Maybe we can get through this together,
Another cup is what I think I need of you,
Whether bitter or not we can make it through,
So my little cappuccino, so frothy and frilly,
I want you to know that I need you,
Like to start my morning, my every morning
Whether you are just black, or a venti latte with skim and carmel syrup stirred inside,
Or else I be stuck in bed all the time
There be no you to keep me awake or alive,
No reason to go outside and try,
No motivator, no mover, just me living my days on my own,
How terribly depressing I must add,
So I'll keep you company if you keep on stirring my brain with your caffeinated ways
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 10:55 AM UTC
Ripples running away from me
disturbing the cool water around.
My splash is heard by the trees and the birds
But by none who can offer help.
At first I panic, thrash madly,
as a thrush flutters on the breeze.
More waves are caused by the actions
But still I flap and scream.
Not a soul can hear me;
the woods are a wilderness, deserted.
Everything hidden by the low dense cloud,
It stops my sight short and muffles my voice.
So I wait drifting with the current
no longer reaching for a hold,
Confident I’ll be found and saved
Dried out and sent home happy.
The minutes soon become hours though
and still there is no help.
I give up counting depressing time.
I don’t want to know how long.
My skin starts to wrinkle with wetness
like a dried fruit in a plastic bag;
My nails soften in the water
But still trap **** and other life.
My faith in human nature
starts to fade and recede.
I try calling out once more
A strange fear forcing the action
I now grab, frantic, at anything in reach
Losing what little strength's left
And the weight of the water in my clothes
And body is dragging me down.
Finally I realise what’s happening to me
is I am sinking, drowning - and fast.
I am dying and there is nothing
I can do myself to stop it.
Inevitable, unpreventable death that I
now accept as being my destiny,
I close my eyes and try to help
By thinking heavy thoughts.
Running over in my head all the reasons
why it may be better this way -
As death is certain this is academic
But strangely seems to help.
If one can find the good in Death
it’s not so unattractive.
I no longer worry, I am resigned
It is my choice to die.
So I just lie back and wait for
embrace even my forthcoming Death
And then I hear a sound prayed for weeks ago
But dreaded and hated as I am now
Footsteps coming towards me that I try to ignore
(and ignore their voices too)
And a hand reaches for me, grasps mine
They think I should be happy to be saved
But they cannot see I don’t want to be saved
from the Death I was so close to and wanted.
I welcomed it, I willed it, to
Come and release me from the pain
Now I am safe I must endure once more
the suffering, and accept Death again.
So here I am alive and well
Trapped in the prison of life.
Aug 24, 2011
Aug 24, 2011 at 6:31 AM UTC
You'll never believe that I am the secrets and you're the words
Just like I don't want to believe I was the ball and you were the bat
What am I even saying
Why am I still writing
These words don't feel the void in my chest
Church says God bless
But then talk down about you
I can attest
I'm drowning in myself
The beast of my mind is consuming me
How much is left
I have no ambition to fight
I'm weak and you'll never know how it feels to be me
No matter how much you relate
You won't know how much I feel it's in vain
Depressing words to match feelings
Dressed in a uniform
Tears roll down my cheeks
Snot dripping nose
All, just leave me alone
Yes I'm broken hearted because the crack was never sealed
And although I act like a cold blooded murderer
I'm the one dying
I'm fading away
You'll never believe that I am the secret and you're the words
The ones I never heard
I don't know myself
Death is stuck in my head
These words you're reading don't mean a thing
Just another broken soul
Probably nothing original
Everyone feels pain
These emotions are cliche
Nothing, still got the same feeling
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC
Dreams of young girls and boys, grew up between the happy endings of a tragic story, that is written by a hand who let mouses speak, and ducks suffer from ADD, an unknown was created by a man who died between the same walls i am in, staring at those walls entering the realm of his thoughts trying to solve the mystery of darkest most depressing riddles, i talked to his lost but not dead voice, leaving me with pictures moving fast, creating a message holds the answer to the voice’s master door, knees of mine touched the ground, a world of his own creation, a world he escape to,
when his soul loses it’s light, forcing that world to enter the real world, one of many “once upon a time” buried myths that hold no happy endings, merging night dreams with the real world is the worst forbidden act, walt disney you were so naive to coast your soul it’s home.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
This is a story of a very loving girl who let her love take her all over the world. A man once convinced her that she was unworthy, and when he threw her out, she left in a hurry. She never looked back and scurried through the states until she found home at her families gates.
Once that man hurt her, she wanted to help others. She gave nothing but love and she nurtured as a mother. Some people accepted the love that she gave and they seemed to love her back so she decided to stay.
The girl fell in love with being loved and got carried away. She ran around experiencing love - every second, each day. Eventually she got herself into a pickle; her heart was strong but her mind, very fickle. She could never belong to only one because she felt she should be there for everyone.
After all of the people that came and went, she never once forgot the time that was spent. The stories, those moments, the love that was shared; she gave out so much love that her heart became bare. She endured great amounts of emotional ware, with some physical injuries that gave doctors a scare. She became very careless with everyone soon and discarded them after they'd been in her bedroom.
Please don't be mislead, the ending is bad, it's another love story with an ending quite sad. After all of the loving and hurting was done, she took a step back to see what she'd become. Much to her dismay she was seemingly **** for the lovers she loved once, had all come undone.
An ugly society, to which she'd finally succumb, molded her into the person from which all this begun. Who knows if you're reading or listening now, but she wants you to know what you've done. Take a bow.
kd
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 6:54 PM UTC
Look at us,
The thirst for green is disgusting
We exploit the lands which aren't ours
We bury the children with so much potential in their eyes
So that we can make a buck or buy a cheaper HDTV
Why should a capitalist care
If a Brazilian child is dying in their mother's fragile arms,
It's one less mouth for the world to feed
And less food for them means more to feed our obese bellies
They say we have evolved so much in the past millennium
When in reality we are exactly the same but with new inventions
And more toys yet we still complain
It's always been about power
Yet the world is in a worse condition because equality is a non existent term
Just like freedom of speech
And the good guy of war
Don't you see what is going on?
Yet we prefer not to see because it is too depressing
Or doesn't affect our daily lives
Look at the inequalities of our own country
There are men women and children starving on the street
Our privileged leaders send those away who only wanted a chance
to fight for something that nobody should believe in.
Keep turning a blind eye and see where that leads you in your life
Because remember you aren't taking anything with you
Except your memories on the day in which you die
Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 12:09 AM UTC