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Poems On / About SYMPATHY  9/5/2015 2:43:36 AM
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Beyond Moments

Turning inwards to look back upon the video of life,
seeing it's fleeting moments pass quickly by.
No way of pausing or stopping it's progression on a
daily basis, no sympathy even for an empathetic
Dredging up it's past does not rely on future steps
beyond the moment of existence being lived at this
very moment.
RoseAnn V. Shawiak

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Fellow Feeling

During the youth the mainstreams are dreams
Elderly era the mainstreams are memories
Right! What about those in between?
So & so I would say
The mind reads
The heart reads
So enjoy the compatibility, sympathy, and fellow feeling.
Abdullah alHemaidy

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Maya My Wife, My Son And Daughter/ The World Of Maya

Maya my wife,
Maya my son, my daughter,
Maya my life, my world,
Maya my house.

The world of maya,
The house of maya,
The bond of blind affection and attachment,
The unbreakable love and sympathy.
Bijay Kant Dubey

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The Evil Heart

the evil heart: there was a young woman who would write poetry all the time, and had close friends. when it came to her dating likfe that was where she crumbled. Trusting the wrong guys cuz they said all of the right things. poem after poem, just there was one evil heart who stole her love completely, no other guy could steal her because she was locked into his. it was a blessing and a curse all at once. she did not know whether or not to let go or stay holding onto nothing. she would write a journal about how she felt and hide it so no one could see ho utterly insane she was. she hid every emotion from everyone, including close friends. She was turning into something no one thought she could be. His evil heart destroyed her to her last breath. she started to harm herself and write in the blood from her wrist. The smell of death lurking is what kept her holding on. The addiction she had was the pain he caused her. She couldnt get away. she lay awake day nad at night screaming from teh pain being in her nightmares. The cold wind blowing hernow brittle body as she walks around silently. No one noticing her existence anymore. Just walking, letting the rail hit her. Pretending it is the angels crying for her. The thunder are angels screaming for her and the lightning is the rush she gets from the razor hitting her skin, for what he did. The ghost of her friends that all committed suicide are calling for her, telling her to burn her journals. She wont, she holds onto them as if her life is depending on it. The ghosts have a riot and the wind picks up and throws everything around. She grabs ahold of what she can cling too. Losing all hope she's ever had in life, in love, in everything. She's alone. All alone. Her family, her friends, her loves, all failed her. She writes: ' Dear Journal, I have lost all hope in everything, i must say I dont know how much longer I can hold on. I cant say i will die tonight but in the future soon i will. I asked for God's help and so far i have gotten answers to the deep depression they dont have medications for. I must ask for no sympathy for i have managed 5 years now. I can manage. I can live through it. For i have lived through hate, agony. The failure. The feeling of abandonment and being forgotten. I must go before i loose all the sanity I have left. So long. ' She puts the journal away and engraves his name into her skin once more. Letting the blood collect in a jar to write all over the walls. ' YOU ARE A MONSTER! YOU DID THIS! FOR YOU DESROYED MY CHANCE AT HAPPINESS! I SHALL DIE FROM YOU! YOU HAVE WON! SATAN YOU HAVE WON! ' she then took the razor he gave her once more and ended her life right htere. For the evil heart can no longer cling onto her, she is gone forever.
Theresa Short

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Poems On / About SYMPATHY