Andrew

Ignorance and stubbornness is everything of you,

Treating her like a slave is true.

Her time, energy and love is what you consume,

Leaving me with nothing, but her gloom.

Blame is what you give to her for all she helps you with,

Saying all your problems she made forthwith.

All she does is not good enough in her eyes,

Still, she will do anything to please you until her demise.

I’ll never understand what she sees in you whom is so cruel,

Someone who cheats and lies; you’re some tool.

One day soon she’ll leave you,

Then all you will feel is rue.

Finally she’ll be free and abloom,

And leave you alone to suffer your doom.

Once again we’ll be happy as goldsmiths,

Our memories of you will be only myths.

I hope your tears for her never dries,

Feel all the pain we felt from your lies.

This fantasy of mine is my fuel,

To get me through my life that you made into a whirlpool.

Emotional Loneliness My Personal Life Pain Poetry

Melancholy

Alone I am, again, I’m left in bane.

So many days have gone by,

Since a person to said to me “hi”.

All I can do is watch others from the blinds,

Only able to have conversations in my mind.

I don’t live alone, but she is never there,

To see her there is something quite rare.

To busy to even call to make sure I’m not dead,

I wonder, what if I made myself bled.

Though the idea always in my thoughts,

The loved I’d gain would be ersatz.

Instead I listen to my music and TV,

Drowning all the thoughts of she.

I’ve become so accustom to solitary,

That being with others makes me wary.

She wants me to be more involved in her life,

But doing so now gives me so much strife.

I embrace my solitude and all of it’s melancholy,

I now reject everything that make me folly.

 

Loneliness My Personal Life Poetry

Tiresome Tears

In my youth I always cried easily,

I’d cry until I was puffy and wheezily.

I’d cry over toys to over my sister,

The tears in my eyes always seemed to glister.

So many tears I’ve cried in my youth,

No one ever thought it was worth to sleuth.

 

Now as I’m a newly-born adult,

My conscious reveals to me it’s occult.

With the help of my mother and her neglect,

I have now firgured out why I’m always a wreck.

Always alone and always put last,

All of these emotional flaws have amassed.

Now the littlest things can make me cry,

From a homeless man to not having pie.

 

The saddest part is that she doesn’t know,

All the mental anguish she always bestows.

She keeps on living happily and fully,

Not knowing that in my mind she’s a bully.

So I cry more everytime she denies me love,

Until a day when my blood covers my hand like a glove.

Emotional Graphic Loneliness My Personal Life Pain Poetry

Drip, Drip

Alone she kneels on the ice,

As liquid falls in groups of trice.

The piercing wind consumes her in it’s cold,

But it’s not the reason her emotions are so bold.

Echoes of a sound come from the icy hilltop,

Drip, drip, drop.

 

Clear and crimson circles in the snow appear,

The perfect blend of vivid and austere.

Her tears aren’t for the pain,

They are for the love she never gained.

She does this for the suffering to stop,

Drip, drip, slop.

 

A silvery blade in her hand,

Causes the blood to paint the snow that’s so bland.

Everyone tried to help her,

Except the one who could make her as she were.

Now her blood and emotions are in a glop,

Drip, drip, sob.

 

Her skin turns to the color of the snow,

And her sobbing begins to slow.

Her gray-blue eyes are hidden by her eyelids,

And her breathing is dull like her life is.

Her smile signifies her last yopp,

Drip, drip, plop.

 

 

Death Emotional Loneliness My Personal Life Poetry Twisted Meanings

Hunger

In my brumal world I have everything,

Except for the things that make me zing.

Those things one can’t touch nor see,

Mean everything to me.

I had them once before,

But now they are all like lore.

I hunger for them to be mine again,

So I can remember my zen.

They give me materials to fill the void,

But I want what they’ve destroyed.

Those things that make one feel alive,

The ones that would make me strive.

I hunger for those feelings,

I hunger for the emotions they bring.

Emotions like hope and happiness,

That kept away despair and vileness.

I’d ruin every material I have with a bat,

To once again feel an emotion like that.

Emotional Loneliness My Personal Life Poetry