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/lit/ - Literature

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1833216 No.1833216 [Reply] [Original]

can you guys write some depressing poems about life please :3 i want to feel depressed at the moment, but just cant

>> No.1833218

Fuck you, have a bittersweet poem about death instead:

But be contented: when that fell arrest
Without all bail shall carry me away,
My life hath in this line some interest,
Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
When thou reviewest this, thou dost review
The very part was consecrate to thee:
The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
My spirit is thine, the better part of me:
So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
The prey of worms, my body being dead,
The coward conquest of a wretch's knife,
Too base of thee to be remembered.
The worth of that is that which it contains,
And that is this, and this with thee remains.

>> No.1833222

>>1833218
lol this board is so fcuking slow wtf

>> No.1833223
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1833223

>i want to feel depressed

>> No.1833226

>>1833218
cool Shakespeare nigger

>> No.1833230

>>1833222
holy shet trips

>> No.1833273

guys come on depress me.
where is you r fucking creativity

>> No.1833278

She slept of dreaming
and woke to a nightmare.

There were things of which
this depended upon that
or others of course but
then yes if it's no
well could or should
what's done is done
if it ain't broke don't
fix the spilled milk
a river of it (stepped in
twice and thrice once
more or less again).

Dog food, cigarettes,
wine in a box,
$18.74 paid by her parents
with plastic magnetic strip
sliding, their confused
groping towards awkward
expressions like love.

She goes home to watch a TV on mute,
listens to techno dance music
no one's swung their hips to
in almost 20 years.

>> No.1833288

the night falls with a silent sigh, entwined are we
the god for which you sacrifice yourself
flares once, then dies,
crushed by a velvet ebon nothingness
all hope must surely perish

your heart beats no more
how could you abandon me?
shadows surround us, crying
we are fallen

>> No.1833305

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Everybody dies
Including you

>> No.1833328

I was actually looking for a place to post this, I just wrote this really quick out of boredom and I don't think it's worthy of its own thread. Tell me what you think, would be greatly appreciated
I like to remind myself that in the end we all fade to black.

That this life means nothing without our loved ones intact .

And I hope one day to look back, holding nothing more then a smile and a flask;

Heart still attached, beating openly but this time not hidden behind the mask.

I’ll think to myself solemnly ”This life sure has taken the best of me”.

Left me with some raggity bones, two eyes and a cinema full of memories.

I was the camera man of my own destiny.

I made sure to record all of our hypocrisy, but only for these eyes to see.

I’m afraid these pictures will blind the weak.

Exposing them to the truth, so to speak.

That there’s ALWAYS a comedown after the peak.

The strong will always prey on the weak.

That love can only last if you’re both willing to lose some sleep.

That life isn’t about who you lost, but who you could keep.

Sure, you can weep while clenching a bottle of hennessy;

Just remember life will never be that fairy tale made by disney.

Love yourself, friends and family,

Because they are the real life version of your fairy tale fantasy.

>> No.1833331

Roses are red
Violets are blue
My dad died
When I was two

>> No.1833341

>>1833328
i love the way it is structured. The end of the sentences and thelines make it seem almost as good as a pop song. Hell, if you play basic C G Am F chords, you might pull it off.

>> No.1833352

The teacher said that my
Poetry recital sucked, so I
Went home and cried and I
Didn't want to live anymore.

>> No.1833356

>>1833341
thanks for the input! But I don't sing or play, my voice is terrible. I just write from time to time when I feel like it

>> No.1833416

roses are red
niggers are jew
your mother was a slut
thats real life to you

>> No.1833503

>>1833416
roses are red
niggers and jews
your father's obese
no need to refuse

>> No.1835306

Back to the top!

>> No.1835310

quentin's two dads
are escorted from pottery barn
after a fight in the throw pillow aisle
the cute cashier at auntie anne's
cinnamon-sugaring a pretzel
turns and stares and points and laughs
they drive home from the mall early
world of warcraft lags

>> No.1835334

Like to the falling of a Starre;
Or as the flights of Eagles are;
Or like fresh springs of gawdy hew;
Or silver drops of morning dew;
Or like a wind that chafes a flood;
Or bubbles which on water stood;
Even such is man, whose borrow’d light
Is streight call’d in, and paid to night.

The Wind blows out; The Bubble dies;
The Spring entomb’d in Autumn lies;
The Dew dries up; the Starre is shot;
The Flight is past; and Man forgot.

>> No.1835337

One day I was walking, I heard a complaining
And saw an old woman the picture of gloom
She gazed at the mud on her doorstep, ‘twas raining
And this was her song as she wielded her broom

O life is a toil, and love is a trouble
Beauty will fade and riches will flee
Pleasures they dwindle and prices they double
And nothing is as I would wish it to be

There’s too much of worriment goes to a bonnet
There’s too much ironing goes to a shirt,
There’s nothing that pays for the time that you waste on it
There’s nothing that lasts but trouble and dirt

In march it is mud, it is slush in December
The mid-summer breezes are loaded with dust.
In fall the leaves litter, in muddy September
The wallpaper rots and the candlesticks rust.

It’s sweeping at six and it’s dusting at seven.
It’s victuals at eight and it’s dishes at nine.
It’s potting and panning from ten to eleven.
We’ve scarce finished breakfast, we’re ready to dine.

Last night in my dreams I was stationed forever
On a far little rock in the midst of the sea.
My one chance at life was a ceaseless endeavour
To sweep of the waves as they swept over me.

Alas! ‘Twas no dream; ahead I behold it,
I see I am helpless my fate to avert
She lay down her broom, her apron she folded,
She lay down and died, and was buried in dirt.

>> No.1835343

Whatever rhyme I shove,
whatever words you schlub,
the point has a tip only now,
and it wanes as time pounds,
one day all shall lie with dulled blades,
in a cemetary heap upon one grave,
that grave is yours, it may as well be,
free