whats a sad poem that will make me cry?

i wanna cry it has to be devastating

4 Answers

  • The Z
    Lv 6
    1 decade ago
    Favorite Answer

    One of the best of all time is by E.A.Poe:


    Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!

    Let the bell toll! -a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river -

    And, Guy De Vere, hast thou no tear? -weep now or never more!

    See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!

    Come! let the burial rite be read -the funeral song be sung! -

    An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young -

    A dirge for her, the doubly dead in that she died so young.

    "Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride,

    And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her -that she died!

    How shall the ritual, then, be read? -the requiem how be sung

    By you - by yours, the evil eye, - by yours, the slanderous tongue

    That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?"

    Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song

    Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong!

    The sweet Lenore hath "gone before," with Hope, that flew beside,

    Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride -

    For her, the fair and debonnaire, that now so lowly lies,

    The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes -

    The life still there, upon her hair -the death upon her eyes.

    Avaunt! tonight my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise,

    But waft the angel on her flight with a paean of old days!

    Let no bell toll! - lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth,

    Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damned Earth.

    To friends above, from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven -

    From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven -

    From grief and groan to a golden throne beside the King of Heaven."


    Annabel Lee

    It was many and many a year ago,

    In a kingdom by the sea,

    That a maiden there lived whom you may know

    By the name of ANNABEL LEE;

    And this maiden she lived with no other thought

    Than to love and be loved by me.

    I was a child and she was a child,

    In this kingdom by the sea;

    But we loved with a love that was more than love-

    I and my Annabel Lee;

    With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

    Coveted her and me.

    And this was the reason that, long ago,

    In this kingdom by the sea,

    A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

    My beautiful Annabel Lee;

    So that her highborn kinsman came

    And bore her away from me,

    To shut her up in a sepulchre

    In this kingdom by the sea.

    The angels, not half so happy in heaven,

    Went envying her and me-

    Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,

    In this kingdom by the sea)

    That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

    Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

    But our love it was stronger by far than the love

    Of those who were older than we-

    Of many far wiser than we-

    And neither the angels in heaven above,

    Nor the demons down under the sea,

    Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

    For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

    And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes

    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

    And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

    Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,

    In the sepulchre there by the sea,

    In her tomb by the sounding sea.

    Edgar Allan Poe

  • Anonymous
    1 decade ago

    I mean this poem is pretty sad...

    once on a yellow piece of paper,

    he wrote a poem

    and he called it "chops"

    because that was the name of his dog.

    and that's what it was about

    and his teacher gave him an A

    and a gold star

    and his mother hung it on he door

    and read it to his aunts

    that was the year father tracy

    took all the kids to the zoo

    and let them sing on the bus

    that was the year his little sister was born

    with tiny toenails and no hair

    and his mother and father kissed a lot

    " and the girl around the corner sent him a

    valentine signed with a row of x's

    and he had to ask his father what the x's meant

    and his father always tucked him in at night

    and was always there to do it

    once on a piece of white paper with blue lines

    he wrote a poem called "autumn"

    because that was the name of the season

    snd that's what it was all about

    and his teacher gave him an A

    and asked him to write more clearly

    and his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

    because of its new paint

    and the kids told him

    that father tracy smoked cigars

    and left butts on the pews

    and sometimes they would burn holes

    that was the year his sister got glasses

    with thick lenses and black frames

    and the girl around the corner laughed

    when he asked her to go see santa claus

    and the kids told him why

    his mother and father kissed a lot

    and his father never tucked him in at night

    and got mad

    when he cried for him to do it

    once on a piece of paper torn from his notebook

    he wrote a poem

    called "innocence; a question"

    because that was the question about his girl

    and that's what is was all about

    and his professor gave him an A

    and a strange steady look

    and his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

    becaue he never showed her

    that was the year that father tracy died

    and he forgot how the end

    of apostle's creed went

    and he caught his sister

    making out on the back porch

    and his mother and father never kissed

    or even talked

    and the girl around the corner

    wore too much makeup

    that made him cough when he kissed her

    but he kissed her anyway

    because that was the thing to do

    and at three a.m he tucked himself into bed

    his father snoring soundly

    that's why on the back of a brown paper bag

    he tried another poem

    and he called it "absolutely nothing"

    becaue that's what it was really about

    and he gave himself an A

    and a slash on each damned wrist

    and he hung it on that bathroom door

    because he didn't think

    he could reach the kitchen

  • libby
    Lv 7
    1 decade ago

    '7' is the title to this commemorative write, how does this sit with you, my dearest friends?

    In the dream

    someone is singing the Happy Birthday song

    but the speed and pitch are all wrong


    and the balloons are black and grey,

    tied to the toes instead of the wrists

    of still children

    who play no party games

    and the clowns all have sad faces

    painted with smiles

    I wonder

    what gifts I would have bought her

    my 14 year old daughter

    (who will always be 7)

    point, moot

    In defiance/denial

    I will bake her a cake anyway,

    blow out 14 candles and wish

    the world away


    grief that had grown complacent

    safely and neatly filed away

    crashes into me full-on

    like a bulldozer

    and in the dream

    the party is over

    a black balloon

    is lifted into grey clouds

    and I watch it disappear

    like she did 7 years ago

    my little girl

    happy birthday


    By our own Lovechild.

  • siegel
    Lv 4
    4 years ago

    your reflective eyes flaunt anguish as you smile and conjure a wink if your capability wasn't restraining it your heart might crumple on your ft the lump on your throat will advance you're taking one step on the music as somebody helpful cries to you you draw back and under no circumstances seem back chanced in this for you and thought it grew to become into sturdy. did not make me cry inspite of the incontrovertible fact that it meant some thing to me in a fashion.

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