1. Cold Dark Corner
There's a cold dark corner
in the back of my room,
it speaks to me
and says I'm coming for you.
Sadness and darkness are natural cousins. Since ancient times, people have worn black to express their grief. Happiness is attracted to sunshine and depression to darkness. There is a certain romance in darkness and melancholy. There is something mysterious about that which is hidden and unknown. Dark poems may seek to romanticize sadness and depression. Other dark poems are simply poems about sad subjects. The poem "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe is an example of a delightfully spooky dark poem. There is much room for creativity in this genre.
There's a cold dark corner
in the back of my room,
it speaks to me
and says I'm coming for you.
We all have ways of expressing ourselves. Some chose not to do so at all. I'm glad that I could help find some emotional security during those times. I hope that you found yourself to be a...
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I've been in this dark place for awhile now too. I haven't smiled since he broke my heart two weeks ago. I just wanted to comment by saying thank you for sharing this poem because it let me...
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Trapped with nowhere to turn, life is changing beyond my control,
causing this deep ache in the bottom of my soul.
Someone else is pulling the strings,
I hope everything has changed, light has fallen upon your soul and love and happiness knocked on your doorstep. No matter what we go through, always pray. Some things happen for reasons we...
In times of trouble and insanity,
I carry masks to disguise
the pain I carry
secure behind my eyes.
This poem truly spoke to me. It's so accurate on so many levels. Life has been hard, and I've had to grow up fast. I've had to be strong and show no panic so my mother would think everything...
Three times I had the lust to kill,
To clutch a throat so young and fair,
And squeeze with all my might until
No breath of being lingered there.
Very well written but a very disturbing situation. Powerful and powerfully sad.
I peek through blinds that are tightly drawn,
Shocked by the glow of the breaking dawn.
I shun the brilliance of another day.
Enslaved and entombed, I stay hidden away.
When words spurt the imagination into someone else's conceptualized perspective. This poem has a pure element I can relate to. Thank you
I'm swimming all alone in a pool of darkness,
and I feel like darkness is slowly pulling me under.
I yell for help, but no one is there to hear it.
I begin to see the water at eye level
Wow, I really felt your pain. Hope you are safe now.
One does not own beauty.
One creates it.
In their dreams,
They feel they can obtain it.
This is magnificent! Ever word is placed perfectly in place, and it's just so hauntingly beautiful! But beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as cliche as it sounds. But what defines...
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Whisper it, don't let them hear.
Be careful; it's them you should fear.
Follow them, do what they say,
And for your sake, don't run away.
you are trapped in a cage..
no one sees it.. not even you..
you don't know what it's made of..
you don't even know where it came from..
I really like this, I was thinking of getting a tattoo for my 18th of a bird cage with the door open but as the bird tries to fly it is still chained down and I thought this poem actually...
In the circus tent of a hurricane
designed by a drunken god
my extravagant heart blows up again
in a rampage of champagne-colored rain
The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
I never heard this before, but I absolutely loved it. The story was creepy but cute, the rhyme was sheer perfection, and I didn't want the story to end; it was so exciting. This poet is so...
We can bead these seashells together,
Hoping this monofilament is enough of a tether,
To keep them from shattering all over the sky,
These clouds in the ocean form waves in my eye,