Poems about empty


№ 1210308


I feel so empty deep down inside i dont have alot of pride those people do you know what they did to me? they're all immature as can be before the age of nine my life was really fine when i was in school i was treated like a fool i hated school everyday and every season because they picked on me for no reason each and every day i felt like running away when i think of the years gone by and all those times id sit alone and cry when i entered the school gate i was always five minutes late you see i was so in fear no friends were there who i could be near this person on the inside and outside is just me i cant be anybody else dont you see i had an accident eleven years ago since then my heart is full of woe hopefully one day all this anger and pain will go away im happy i can walk but sometimes i wish i couldnt talk maybe you will all think im mad but believe me im not all that bad why i always say the hurt and pain is here to stay everybody please understand i dont feel accepted in this land i want to write down how i feel because sometiimes my mind spins like a wheel im not the sort of person who wants to fight i just want to live my life right is this the end? or am i going around the bend? no i dont think so but at the moment im feeling low


Author: Keith
Date: 07/04/2020

№ 1209828

Empty speeches

Sometimes I
Need to
Let of steam.
Sometimes I
Feel carelessly
Around me
People talking
With lots and lots
Of words without
A meaning
People that flaunt
Their ignorance
With certainty and
Sometimes I
Need to vent
Because I can't
Bear folks
That don't give
To the content
Of their talks.
Sometimes I
Just need to
Let of steam.

empty,  speeches.

Author: Caterina
Date: 06/04/2020

№ 1209120

Sea on the empty Beach

As wide open as the sea
As resonant as the waves
Splashing on the beach.
For a moment or so I was
Pondering so full as the sea
What has it left to tally
With as empty as the the beach?

beach,  empty,  sea.

Author: Shofi Ahmed
Date: 06/04/2020

№ 1208956

My mother's empty bed

A place of safety? he wonders
And i don't hesitate to answer.
Well my mother's bed
Something about it, i continue
The way the comforter never attaches to the foot
And the sheets wrinkle into folds of security
The smell as i breathe deep into the pillows
Unchanged no matter the location
Makes my tears subside little by little
Soaking up thoughts of regret
And provides a feeling no human could give
Well, besides my mother of course.
A feeling of overwhelming safety, all in my mother's empty bed

bed,  empty,  mother.

Author: ZoГ«
Date: 06/04/2020

№ 1208667

Empty Beer Bottles and Dead Dandelions

I left you on the train tracks and
I've been trying to apologise for
Years but nothing feels right
You threw rocks back
I never expected anything less
No china shop but you bull-shitted
Your way through everything
And I never had the guts to stop you
I kept you in self-inflicted put me downs
And calorie counted sweetness
You still got a hold over me
And now I try to fit you into rhymes
But nothing works
I found you last summer
In empty beer bottles and dead dandelions
I should have known they were signs
Nothing was alive
Not even you

beer,  bottles,  dandelions,  dead,  empty.

Author: babydulle
Date: 05/04/2020

№ 1208656

The Empty Man

For every bit of advice on the matter
For every warning and caution against it
He would still give his heart like a fool if he could
But time has made him bitter
Time has given him every moment he needed
To become wary of what he tells others
He has become a secretive creature
When it comes to those matters deepest to his concern

True, he sings and dances and seems carefree
True, he seems loving and compassionate
But inside he is as cold and sad as any might be
Too many times he has been lured to trust
Each time he has suffered for obliging so
Every hope for intimacy he has seen crushed
Every dream of companionship he watched shatter
Until only the one thing that gives him joy is left unstained

He has tried and tried to burn away the roots
Of mistrust, doubt and suspicion that have grown in him
That coiled and bound and climbed around his heart
Transfiguring him into a blind and numb man
Changed him as greatly as a storm does the coast
Made him afraid of all the capricious good of life
The changing tide of existence became his bane
So that he hides behind a terrible, glorious, painted mask

People see of him the truth he wishes to obtain
Thinking that perfect bliss in life is already his own
Believing that he may be so happy and do so alone
Not seeing how he craves to trust and feel it is well placed
Seeing instead a man who fears nothing for the lack of secrets
Not seeing the man who is unhappy in loneliness
Only viewing the caricature of his abandoned ambitions' success
And he was worn the lie so long that is the only truth

His heart has turned to dust and gone
His soul sputters lamely against the sea of life
Too long he has waited to forgive and say it is so
Time has made him a hollow beast with a hollow shell
He will act and act alone and never be at ease
He will suffer and suffer alone and never know friends
He will die and die alone and have forgotten love
There will never be meaning to his words or deeds

He will never again have a soul to define himself with

empty,  man.

Author: Jonathan Barry Sullivan
Date: 05/04/2020

№ 1208120

I bleed out with every empty promise.

Inside my chest
There is a heart-shaped box

It is empty.

bleed,  empty,  promise.

Author: Georgia Marginson-Swart
Date: 05/04/2020

№ 1207822

Empty / imagery

Adam had no memory of his first wife. as created, he would look at Eve all day and feel nothing.


The vacation house was found to be owned by another family. in it, my mother resisted arrest.


My father was born with six fingers on his right hand and seven on his left. he was not fond of either hand until later in life when the grandchildren asked him at different times during their visits if he had been tortured.


God created the world because he couldn't do it on his own. ah, note to self, fuck off. person is place. I might've killed a man had I not been poking holes in a poem by Barton Smock.


My brother says it's part of his condition that he can only explain himself from the waist down. he says he feels horrible in the back of his head and wants me to take a look. he says I don't know what darkness is. before I can play doctor he remembers he has a story he wants me to write. the outline of the story is off site. in the opening scene brother recalls that a young man is blowing dust from a human skull made of plastic because it's all the narrator can afford.


The head itself was an afterthought. had god not allowed the soul to come up for air, beauty would have been spared our invention.


A single mother is a twofold mirage. please argue above her quietly. her legs collapse. her child comes first.


Your sister is the only person I've recorded to have been born without a gift. I was told this in confidence by an angel masquerading as a small animal the size of which escapes me.


I am aware a sparrow exists. not in a spiritual vacuum. people are another hell.


Excuse my friend his earlier joy in saying who do I have to fuck to get fucked around here. at age 19 a man exploded beside my friend and my friend went quiet. to his grave thinking his own bomb malfunctioned.

empty,  imagery.

Author: Barton D Smock
Date: 05/04/2020