Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
POEM STARTER
Loss
Write a poem, in any style, that focuses on the theme of loss.
Writings
I shall shed no tears,
For why weep for a life that’s gone—when it was a life well lived?
Death came, swift and quiet,
And in his grasp, you slipped away,
Out of reach, out of sight.
Would I choose to know you still—and accept the pain,
Or would I trade the joys we shared—for a life untouched by loss?...
(This reads to me like a folk song)
As the sun melts the blues of today
And the fire of the sunset burns away
Twenty-four hours of time done and spent
I blink, and suddenly the day’s gone and went
Inky night approaches by and by
Sometimes you’ve got to lose your footing to fly
28,000 more will come
Just counting down until I’m home
Yet the midnight sits so bleak and dreary
And every night my ...
Am I so wrong for weeping
In the times you are away?
I can only love you deeply
Never any other way
In nightmares I have lost you
And when I wake I fear
They have become reality
Because you are not near
I know we’ll be united
Post this agonizing night
But though dark is not eternal
It makes us forget the light
So in moments my strength fails me
I cry out to skies of gray
Am I so wrong for w...
Someday turns grey,
As she looks onward to the skies,
She took all the colour with her as she flies.
My head grows black,
I’ve looked for her all around,
But now she’s sleeping underground.
Please be kind,
More than she’ll ever know,
It’s all I wish for before I go.
I hope you know,
Which way to go,
For my sake, take it slow.
You were taken too soon,
You should’ve grown old,
In my pocket is yo...
You have lost me, but I have not lost you.
My life and its reminants are all that you are still.
Live on a wire, dancing in my head with all indications of uncold, breathing, exuberance.
My body knows presently how it feels to hug you as I did when you were here.
The hot bubbles in my chest ready to explode into a distinct laughter that only you brought out, still sit here waiting.
Your l...
Loss. No, I’m not talking about losing money or losing what can easily be replaced. I’m talking about genuine loss, the kind where you lay on the floor crawled in a ball, asking the people why, why me god?
What did I do to make you this way, why me?
Why will nobody help me?
All those unanswered questions you made, you said them all out loud. Who would have thought that something as simple as...
Once lost,
A foot to a feather,
The wind blows
And the mountains change,
With us,
A never ending river.
Normality,
Trading bark for bite,
An empty voice,
Harsh against its light.
Formality
Traded in for something more in range.
Heavy mist hangs
In that never ending night.
Sharp,
Like a roses flower,
It drips it’s red paint
Underneath.
Staining soulful complaint
Flooding it with grief.
Tai...
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