70 Poems about Loneliness to Feel Your Pain and Solitude

Loneliness is a universal human experience, yet it can often leave us feeling isolated and misunderstood.

It is a powerful emotion that can be both painful and poignant.

Poems about loneliness offer a way to connect with others who share these feelings, to feel seen and heard, and to find solace in the beauty of language.

Whether it’s the isolation of a long night or the deeper loneliness of depression and pain, there are poems about loneliness that can help us explore the depths of our solitude and offer a glimpse of hope.

So let’s read some loneliness poems.

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Famous Poems about Loneliness

From Whitman’s “When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer” to Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” famous poets have explored the theme of loneliness in their work. These famous poems about loneliness offer a window into the minds of some of the most celebrated writers of our time.

1. Alone

       by Sara Teasdale

I am alone, in spite of love,
In spite of all I take and give—
In spite of all your tenderness,
Sometimes I am not glad to live.
I am alone, as though I stood
On the highest peak of the tired gray world,
About me only swirling snow,
Above me, endless space unfurled;
With earth hidden and heaven hidden,
And only my own spirit’s pride
To keep me from the peace of those
Who are not lonely, having died.

2. On the Moor

       by Cale Young Rice


I met a child upon the moor
A-wading down the heather;
She put her hand into my own,
We crossed the fields together.
I led her to her father’s door—
A cottage midst the clover.
I left her—and the world grew poor
To me, a childless rover.

I met a maid upon the moor,
The morrow was her wedding.
Love lit her eyes with lovelier hues
Than the eve-star was shedding.
She looked a sweet good-bye to me,
And o’er the stile went singing.
Down all the lonely night I heard
But bridal bells a-ringing.

I met a mother on the moor,
By a new grave a-praying.
The happy swallows in the blue
Upon the winds were playing.
“Would I were in his grave,” I said,
“And he beside her standing!”
There was no heart to break if death
For me had made demanding.

3. The Sea of Silence

       by Florence May Alt

When between us two there rolled
Wide Atlantic’s sea,
Ships too frail thy love to hold
Brought thy words to me.
Though thy letters few and far
Crost a burning zone,
Yet thy love rose like a star—
I was not alone.
When the white sails westward flew,
“What are seas?” I cried;
“What but ribbons broad and blue,
That the gods have tied.”
Though across Pacific’s sea,
Drifted wrecks were blown,
Still thy letters came to me—
I was not alone.
But today we met—behold,
In the narrow street;
And the Sea of Silence rolled
To our ver feet.
Not a smile to cross the space,
Not a tender tone;
I, while looking in thy face,
Knew I was alone.

4. I Am Lonely

       by George Eliot

The world is great: the birds all fly from me,
The stars are golden fruit upon a tree
All out of reach: my little sister went,
And I am lonely.
The world is great: I tried to mount the hill
Above the pines, where the light lies so still,
But it rose higher: little Lisa went
And I am lonely.
The world is great: the wind comes rushing by.
I wonder where it comes from; sea birds cry
And hurt my heart: my little sister went,
And I am lonely.
The world is great: the people laugh and talk,
And make loud holiday: how fast they walk!
I’m lame, they push me: little Lisa went,
And I am lonely.

5. The Lost Hyacinth

       by Hannah Flagg Gould

My hyacinth, my hyacinth
At length has come to light!
And round the stalk and purple buds
The leaves are green and bright!
Renewed in beauty it has broke
From out the crumbling earth;
And, when I thought it dead and gone,
It has another birth!
My hyacinth! my hyacinth!
At last I’ve found thee out.
Oh! where hast thou been hid so long?
What hast thou been about?
“I’ve been,” the little hermit said,
“Within my lowly cell;
And joy I’ve had in quiet there,
That tongue can never tell.
“In sweet communion with the power
To which alone I trust,
I’ve worshipped long at nature’s shrine,
Abased below the dust.
“This upper world I find a scene
Of peril, change and strife;
And from seclusion I must draw
My sweetest draught of life.
“I would not live, if ever thus,
Uncovered to the glare
Of yonder sun, I must be brushed
By ev’ry vagrant air.
“T is best for me, and best for thee
That I should pass from sight,
To be a while in loneliness,
And hidden from the light.
“For I should lose my greatest worth
By being always here;
Thou would’st not feel the joy thou hast
To see me re-appear.
“From calm and humble solitude
My first attractions flow,
And, but for these, I were but poor,
Without a charm to show.
“But I’ve come back to stand a while
In beauty to thine eye;
And when my flowers have gladdened thee,
They’ll be content to die.
“And, while thy hyacinth her sweets
Shall pour from every bell,
Remember she her fragrance gained
Within the lowly cell!”

6. The Little Harebell

       by Anonymous

“Tell me, little harebell,
Are you lonely here.
Blooming in the shadow
On this rock so drear?”
“Clinging to this bit of earth,
As if in mid-air,
With your sweet face turned to me,
Looking strangely fair?”
“Lady” said the harebell,
Nodding low its head,
“Though this spot seem dreary,
Thought the sunlight’s fled.
“Know that I’m not lonely
That I ne’er despair.
God is in the shadow
God is everywhere.”

7. December

       by Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the lonely house.

Darkest of all Decembers
Ever my life has known,
Sitting here by the embers,
Stunned and helpless, alone—

Dreaming of two graves lying
Out in the damp and chill:
One where the buzzard, flying,
Pauses at Malvern Hill;

The other—alas! the pillows
Of that uneasy bed
Rise and fall with the billows
Over our sailor’s head.

Theirs the heroic story —
Died, by frigate and town!
Theirs the Calm and the Glory,
Theirs the Cross and the Crown.

Mine to linger and languish
Here by the wintry sea.
Ah, faint heart! in thy anguish,
What is there left to thee?

Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the lonely house.

8. Contrast

       by Emily Dickinson

A door just opened on a street —
I, lost, was passing by —
An instant’s width of warmth disclosed,
And wealth, and company.
The door as sudden shut, and I,
I, lost, was passing by, —
Lost doubly, but by contrast most,
Enlightening misery.

Short Poems about Loneliness

Sometimes, the simplest words can capture the deepest emotions. Short poetries about loneliness offer a way to express complex feelings in a few lines, often with a powerful punch.

1. Alone

       by Edgar Allan Poe

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—

2. The Solitude of Alexander Selkirk

       by William Cowper

I am monarch of all I survey;
My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre all round to the sea
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O Solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.
I am out of humanity’s reach,
I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech;
I start at the sound of my own.
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see;
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.

Society, Friendship, and Love
Divinely bestow’d upon man,
O, had I the wings of a dove
How soon would I taste you again!
My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth;
Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And be cheer’d by the sallies of youth.

Ye winds that have made me your sport,
Convey to this desolate shore
Some cordial endearing report
Of a land I shall visit no more:
My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?
O tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see.

How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,
And the swift-wingèd arrows of light.
When I think of my own native land
In a moment I seem to be there;
But alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.

But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.
There’s mercy in every place,
And mercy, encouraging thought!
Gives even affliction a grace
And reconciles man to his lot.

3. Water Noises

       by Elizabeth Madox Roberts

When I am playing by myself,
And all the boys are lost around,
Then I can hear the water go;
It makes a little talking sound.
Along the rocks below the tree,
I see it ripple up and wink;
And I can hear it saying on,
“And do you think? And do you think?”
A bug shoots by that snaps and ticks,
And a bird flies up beside the tree
To go into the sky to sing.
I hear it say, “Killdee, killdee!”
Or else a yellow cow comes down
To splash a while and have a drink.
But when she goes I still can hear
The water say, “And do you think?”

4. Alone

       by Ruby Archer

For me the day is done,
Though high the ardent sun;
I feel the twilight gray.
For you, my Love, are gone,
My Sunlight and my Dawn,
My Noon and all my Day.

5. I Like to Wander Off Alone

       by Annette Wynne

I like to wander off alone
And climb upon a great tall stone,
And wonder.
I like to wonder at the sky,
The curly cloud that tumbles by;
I like to wonder at the grass
And all the flying things that pass,
I wonder if they wonder, too,
The little things—perhaps they do,
Perhaps they wonder who am I
To stare at them as they pass by;
The curly cloud looks down at me
And wonders, too, what I may be,
A tiny spot, so very small,
The cloud can hardly see at all;
And all the world is wondering
At every other wondering thing,
There’s so much wondering to do,
I wonder if I could get through;
I think perhaps I might some day
If I should never stop for play—
I wonder!

6. Repulse

       by Georgia Douglas Johnson

Nobody cares when I am glad,
I beat upon their hearts in glee,
“Drink, drink joy’s brimming cup with me,”
All echoless, my ecstasy—
Nobody cares when I am glad.
Nobody cares when I am sad,
Whene’er I seek compassion’s breast,
I falter wounded from my quest
Back! back into my heart, sore prest—
Nobody cares when I am sad.

Long Poems about Loneliness

For those seeking a more immersive experience, long poems about loneliness can offer an opportunity to delve deeply into the complexities of this emotion. These long poetries about loneliness can take readers on a journey through the landscape of solitude and offer a chance for reflection and introspection.

1. The Hermit’s Farewell

       by Kate Slaughter McKinney

Farewell, that sad and bitter word
It stirs my soul to-night,
As I sit crouching in my cave
Above the faggot’s light;
Strange, ghostly figures dance and flit
Along the cold, damp walls;
The black snake glares his drowsy eyes,
And from his dungeon crawls.
The toad croaks near my humble fire,
Is loth to hop away,
And knows that ne’er again for him
Will I in ambush lay;
The bats flit idly to and fro,
The mice romp through my cell,
And e’en the wind that moans without
Repeats that word—farewell.
I move, and think ’tis some weird dream
Then mutter “’tis my brain;”
For here around my throbbing brow
Seems clamped a heavy chain,
And like a prisoner doomed to die
To-morrow at the stake,
I count the hours as they fly,
And dread the morning’s break.
For friends will come to lead me forth,
Through frescoed hall and room,
To homes where kindred ties await;
I fear the hermit’s doom.
They’ve tempted me—I fain would rest
Here on the dungeon mould,
Than dream on beds where curtains swing
With sunbeams in each fold.
For beasts and birds and creeping things
Have owned me as their guest,
When man would turn me from his door
With cruel word or jest;
And as I served my scanty meal,
In supplicating lays,
The cricket and the katydid
Would join my evening praise.
God pitied me, my loneliness
He made a sweet content;
I found companions in the stars
That from the heavens bent;
His flowers were friends, the golden rod
Smiled in its yellow hood,
A sentinel about my door
The purple thistle stood.
But look! the morning’s amber hue
Steals on the Easter skies,
Farewell! farewell! when Death has closed
These dim and longing eyes,
In peace to slumber here entombed,
Will be the boon I crave,
And those who spurned The Hermit’s home
Shall shun The Hermit’s grave.

2. Tired

       by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I am tired tonight, and something,
The wind maybe, or the rain,
Or the cry of a bird in the copse outside,
Has brought back the past, and its pain.
And I feel, as I sit here thinking,
That the hand of a dead old June
Has reached out hold of my heart’s loose strings,
And is drawing them up in tune.
I am tired tonight, and I miss you,
And long for you, love, through tears;
And it seems but today that I saw you go—
You, who have been gone for years.
And I seem to be newly lonely—
I, who am so much alone;
And the strings of my heart are well in tune,
But they have not the same old tone.
I am tired; and that old sorrow
Sweeps down the bed of my soul,
As a turbulent river might suddenly break
Away from a dam’s control.
It beareth a wreck on its bosom,
A wreck with a snow-white sail,
And the hand on my heart-strings thrums away,
But they only respond with a wail.

3. With A Flower

       by Emily Dickinson

I hide myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too —
And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.

4. The Lesson

       by Paul Laurence Dunbar

My cot was down by a cypress grove,
And I sat by my window the whole night long,
And heard well up from the deep dark wood
A mocking-bird’s passionate song.
And I thought of myself so sad and lone,
And my life’s cold winter that knew no spring;
Of my mind so weary and sick and wild,
Of my heart too sad to sing.
But e’en as I listened the mock-bird’s song,
A thought stole into my saddened heart,
And I said, “I can cheer some other soul
By a carol’s simple art.”
For oft from the darkness of hearts and lives
Come songs that brim with joy and light,
As out of the gloom of the cypress grove
The mocking-bird sings at night.
So I sang a lay for a brother’s ear
In a strain to soothe his bleeding heart,
And he smiled at the sound of my voice and lyre,
Though mine was a feeble art.
But at his smile I smiled in turn,
And into my soul there came a ray:
In trying to soothe another’s woes
Mine own had passed away.

5. The Lonely Lion

       by Amos Russel Wells

The lion was lonely;
Said he, “There is only
One way of driving this gloom from me:
I must enter into society!”
So he asked the beasts in a manner quite hearty,
To come to his cave for a little party.
On the appointed day,
In a frightened way,
A parrot flew over his head to say
That the beasts would be happy the lion to greet,
But they very much feared he was out of meat!
“Alas!” the lion cried with a groan,
And must I then live forever alone?”

6. The Solitary

       by Eliza And Sarah Wolcott

Wonder not that tears and sorrow
Wash my cheerful looks away;
I from earth no wreath can borrow,—
Lovely pilgrim of a day.
I who once could dance with gladness,
Joyful when the moon arose;
The song and dance are turned to sadness,
And my looks bespeak my woes.
Once my parents both were living—
Crown of all my joys below,—
Wonder not such joys are riven,
Wonder not my tears should flow.
I have seen my mother dying,
I have laid her in the tomb;
Wonder not that I am sighing,
Wonder not I’m fill’d with gloom.
I have seen two sisters dying.
I have laid them in the tomb;
Wonder not that I am sighing,
O’er such flowers nipt in their bloom.
I have parted with another,—
He to foreign lands hath gone,—
He the only son; my brother,
Now his absence I bemoan.
I have seen my aged father,
Bending to an adverse fate;
Wonder not that I should gather
Cypress leaves, and mourn of late.
Tears befit my lonely hours,
Tears of sorrow now may fall;
Yet I own my better powers,
See that God is all in all.

7. Let Us Be Kind

       by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you,
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer,
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shirk from voicing care.
Rejoice and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectar’d wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by;
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisle of pain.
Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.

8. Ode on Solitude

       by Alexander Pope

Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Blest, who can unconcernedly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixed; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.

9. Alone

       by James Russell Lowell

From the close-shut windows gleams no spark,
The night is chilly, the night is dark,
The poplars shiver, the pine-trees moan,
My hair by the autumn breeze is blown,
Under thy window I sing alone,
Alone, alone, ah woe! alone!
The darkness is pressing coldly around,
The windows shake with a lonely sound,
The stars are hid and the night is drear,
The heart of silence throbs in thine ear,
In thy chamber thou sittest alone,
Alone, alone, ah woe! alone!
The world is happy, the world is wide.
Kind hearts are beating on every side;
Ah, why should we lie so coldly curled
Alone in the shell of this great world?
Why should we any more be alone?
Alone, alone, ah woe! alone!
Oh, ’tis a bitter and dreary word,
The saddest by man’s ear ever heard!
We each are young, we each have a heart,
Why stand we ever coldly apart?
Must we forever, then, be alone?
Alone, alone, ah woe! alone!

10. Home

       by Rupert Brooke

I came back late and tired last night
Into my little room,
To the long chair and the firelight
And comfortable gloom.
But as I entered softly in
I saw a woman there,
The line of neck and cheek and chin,
The darkness of her hair,
The form of one I did not know
Sitting in my chair.
I stood a moment fierce and still,
Watching her neck and hair.
I made a step to her; and saw
That there was no one there.
It was some trick of the firelight
That made me see her there.
It was a chance of shade and light
And the cushion in the chair.
Oh, all you happy over the earth,
That night, how could I sleep?
I lay and watched the lonely gloom;
And watched the moonlight creep
From wall to basin, round the room.
All night I could not sleep.

Poems about Loneliness for Adults

It is okay to feel lonely sometimes. As we grow into adults existential crisis takes over and we feel lonely more often. These poems will touch on that subject.

1. The Old Sheep Wagon

       Arthur Chapman

I have heard men long for a palace, but I want no such abode,
For wealth is a source of trouble, and a jeweled crown is a load;
I’11 take my home in the open, with a mixture of sun and rain—
Just give me my old sheep wagon, on the boundless Wyoming plain.
With the calling sheep around me, and my collie’s head on my knees,
I float my cigarette smoke on the sage-scented prairie breeze;
And at night, when the band is bedded, I creep, like a tired child,
To my tarp, in the friendly wagon, alone on the sheep range wild.
Music and art I am missing?—but what great symphony
Can equal the harps of nature that are twanged by the plains-wind free?
And where is the master of color to match, though for years he tried,
The purples that veil yon mesa, at the hour of eventide?
I have had my fill of mankind, and my dog is my only friend,
So I’m waiting, here in the sagebrush, for the judgment the Lord may send;
They’ll find me dead in my wagon, out here on the hilltops brown,
But I reckon I’11 die as easy as I would in a bed in town!

2. Vers de Société

       by Philip Larkin

My wife and I have asked a crowd of craps
To come and waste their time and ours: perhaps
You’d care to join us? In a pig’s arse, friend.
Day comes to an end.
The gas fire breathes, the trees are darkly swayed.
And so Dear Warlock-Williams: I’m afraid—

Funny how hard it is to be alone.
I could spend half my evenings, if I wanted,
Holding a glass of washing sherry, canted
Over to catch the drivel of some bitch
Who’s read nothing but Which;
Just think of all the spare time that has flown

Straight into nothingness by being filled
With forks and faces, rather than repaid
Under a lamp, hearing the noise of wind,
And looking out to see the moon thinned
To an air-sharpened blade.
A life, and yet how sternly it’s instilled

All solitude is selfish. No one now
Believes the hermit with his gown and dish
Talking to God (who’s gone too); the big wish
Is to have people nice to you, which means
Doing it back somehow.
Virtue is social. Are, then, these routines

Playing at goodness, like going to church?
Something that bores us, something we don’t do well
(Asking that ass about his fool research)
But try to feel, because, however crudely,
It shows us what should be?
Too subtle, that. Too decent, too. Oh hell,

Only the young can be alone freely.
The time is shorter now for company,
And sitting by a lamp more often brings
Not peace, but other things.
Beyond the light stand failure and remorse
Whispering Dear Warlock-Williams: Why, of course—

3. Night

       by Michael Hofmann

It’s all right
Unless you’re either lonely or under attack.
That strange effortful
Repositioning of yourself. Laundry, shopping,
Hours, the telephone—unless misinformed—
Only ever ringing for you, if it ever does.
The night—yours to decide,
Among drink, or books, or lying there.
On your back, or curled up.
An embarrassment of poverty.

4. Shy Boy

       by Greg Sellers

I wait for my shadow to forget me,
to take that one phantom step that I keep
from taking. I wait for the simple flash
of a dancer’s spat upon this one moon
of stage-light, the mind’s lonely oval
illuminated on the surface of some
windless pond or slew. And the old soft-shoe
practices to get it right, husha-husha-hush
in its constant audition of sawdust.
Even this choreography of useless
wishing is not enough to keep tonight
from becoming nothing more than some floor’s
forgotten routine where faded, numbered
dance-steps silently waltz themselves away.
The orchestra’s now ready to Fauré
into the evening’s last song while I try
to convince myself to cross this room
for the first time all night and rinse
what’s left in some débutante’s silver
sequined waterfall, hope keeling hopelessly
ever closer to the edge. Across the floor
other couples sashay on. A tin flask empties
itself from asking, the shadow’s last chance
now wasted in some chandelier’s dim lust.

5. American Solitude

       by Grace Schulman

Hopper never painted this, but here
on a snaky path his vision lingers:
three white tombs, robots with glassed-in faces
and meters for eyes, grim mouths, flat noses,
lean forward on a platform, like strangers
with identical frowns scanning a blur,
far off, that might be their train.
Gas tanks broken for decades face Parson’s
smithy, planked shut now. Both relics must stay.
The pumps have roots in gas pools, and the smithy
stores memories of hammers forging scythes
to cut spartina grass for dry salt hay.
The tanks have the remove of local clammers
who sink buckets and stand, never in pairs,
but one and one and one, blank-eyed, alone,
more serene than lonely. Today a woman
rakes in the shallows, then bends to receive
last rays in shimmering water, her long shadow
knifing the bay. She slides into her truck
to watch the sky flame over sand flats, a hawk’s
wind arabesque, an island risen, brown
Atlantis, at low tide; she probes the shoreline
and beyond grassy dunes for where the land
might slope off into night. Hers is no common
emptiness, but a vaster silence filled
with terns’ cries, an abundant solitude.
Nearby, the three dry gas pumps, worn
survivors of clam-digging generations,
are luminous, and have an exile’s grandeur
that says: In perfect solitude, there’s fire.
One day I approached the vessels
and wanted to drive on, the road ablaze
with dogwood in full bloom, but the contraptions
outdazzled the road’s white, even outshone
a bleached shirt flapping alone
on a laundry line, arms pointed down.
High noon. Three urns, ironic in their outcast
dignity—as though, like some pine chests,
they might be prized in disuse—cast rays,
spun leaf—covered numbers, clanked, then wheezed
and stopped again. Shadows cut the road
before I drove off into the dark woods.

6. Bryant Park at Dusk

       by Geoffrey Brock

Floodlights have flared on behind and above
Where I sit in my public chair.
The lawn that had gradually darkened has brightened.
The library windows stare.

I’m alone in a crowd—e pluribus plures.
Far from a family I miss.
I’d almost say I’m lonely, but lonely
Is worse, I recall, than this.

Loneliness is a genuine poverty.
I’m like a man who is flush
But forgot his wallet on the nightstand
When he left for work in a rush,

And now must go without food and coffee
For a few hours more than he’d wish.
That’s all. He still has a wallet. It’s bulging.
It floats through his brain like a fish…

Money for love: a terrible simile,
But maybe it’s fitting here,
A couple of blocks from Madison Avenue
Where commodities are dear,

Where all around me, rich skyscrapers
Woo the impoverished sky,
Having sent on their way the spent commuters
Who stream, uncertain, by—

And as for this whole splurge of a city,
Isn’t money at its heart?
But I’m blathering now. Forgetting my subject.
What I meant to say at the start

Is that I noticed a woman reading
In a chair not far from mine.
Silver-haired, calm, she stirred a hunger
Hard for me to define,

Perhaps because she doesn’t seem lonely.
And what I loved was this:
The way, when dusk had darkened her pages,
As if expecting a kiss,

She closed her eyes and threw her head back,
Book open on her lap.
Perhaps she was thinking about her story,
Or the fall air, or a nap.

I thought she’d leave me then for pastimes
More suited to the dark.
But she is on intimate terms, it seems,
With the rhythms of Bryant Park,

For that’s when the floodlights came on, slowly,
Somewhere far above my need,
And the grass grew green again, and the woman
Reopened her eyes to read.

7. Danse Russe

       by William Carlos Williams

If I when my wife is sleeping
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,—
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
“I am lonely, lonely.
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!”
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
against the yellow drawn shades,—

Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?

8. Solitude

       by Caroline Caddy

It’s something they carry with them
– explorers night shifts seamen –
like a good pair of binoculars
or a camera case
perfectly and deeply compartmented.
It has a quiet patina
that both absorbs and reflects
like a valuable instrument
you have to sign for
– contract with alone –
and at the end of the voyage
you get to keep.
Sometimes it’s very far away.
Sometimes so close
at first you think the person next to you
is picking up putting down
a personal cup
a book in another language
before you realise what
– when talk has moved off
leaning its arms
on someone else’s table –
is being
handed to you.

9. The Lonely Soul

       by Anto Thermadam

The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the walks of life
No other soul as his companion
The lonely soul wanders

Alone in the daybreak
He does his duties
In the walks of life
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the life
He meets many other souls
Who comes to be
Unfit for the lonely soul
The lonely soul wanders

As the days pass by
The lonely soul became
More lonely, with no other
souls as his companion
The lonely soul wanders

Alone in the walks of life
The lonely soul decides
Not to die, but to face
Life in all its hardships
The lonely soul wanders

10. O Solitude!

       by John Keats

O SOLITUDE! if I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep,—
Nature’s observatory—whence the dell,
Its flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
’Mongst boughs pavillion’d, where the deer’s swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell.
But though I’ll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
Whose words are images of thoughts refin’d,
Is my soul’s pleasure; and it sure must be
Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,
When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.

Poems about Loneliness and Depression

Loneliness and depression can often go hand in hand, and poets have been exploring the intersection of these emotions for centuries. Poems about loneliness and depression can offer a sense of camaraderie and shared experience to those who are struggling.

1. Alone

       by Maya Angelou

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don’t believe I’m wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can’t use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They’ve got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I’ll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

2. I Needed You

       by Angie M Flores

Not Getting Love From Mother
Not receiving the love that one needs from their mother.
When I was sad and depressed,
I needed you to be cheer me up.
Instead, I drank till I was numb enough not to feel anything.

When everyone was attacking me and putting me down, making me feel so low,
I needed you to be the one to defend me and be on my side.
Instead, I endured all the cruel words and criticism the world threw at me.

When I lost all my friends and had no one,
I needed you to be that only friend I had left.
Instead, I experienced what the word “friendless” really meant.

When I was scared and frightened,
I needed you to be my security blanket.
Instead, I had to live in fear.

When I was angry and full of rage,
I needed you to calm me down.
Instead, I kept it all bottled up inside.

When I felt so lonely and needed someone to care,
I needed you to hold me tight and never let me go.
Instead, I grew up alone with no one to turn to.

When I was hurt and in pain,
I needed you to come running with you healing ways.
Instead, I remained scarred and bruised.

When I would inflict self-torture, wanting to die,
I needed you to stop me and tell me how important I was.
Instead, I hid my scars and became oblivious to everyone.

When I would cry myself to sleep at night,
I needed you to wipe the tears away.
Instead, I held my pillow tight while never-ending tears streamed down my face.

When my world was crashing down on me,
I needed you to be the one I ran to.
Instead, I locked myself in my room in complete despair.

When I felt unloved,
I needed you to tell me how much you loved me.
Instead, I learned the words “I love you” are meaningless.

3. My Mask

       by Briana M

My smile hides my tears.
My laugh hides my screams.
It’s been this way for years.
Things aren’t as they seem.

I always seem so happy.
With not a care in the world.
But you should know, sadly
Many things go untold.

Nobody really knows me.
They only know my cover.
But I wish I could let it free.
Let them know what’s under.

But instead, I practice
My smiles in the mirror.
Then the next thing I do is
Make my fake laugh clearer.

What is wrong? You need help?
Is all they will ask.
So I have decided
To live behind a mask.

4. Mask

       by Matt

I was once sad and lonely,
Having nobody to comfort me,
So I wore a mask that always smiled,
To hide my feelings behind a lie.

Before long, I had many friends;
With my mask, I was one of them.
But deep inside I still felt empty,
Like I was missing a part of me.

Nobody could hear my cries at night,
For I designed my mask to hide the lies.
Nobody could see the pain I was feeling,
For I designed my mask to be laughing.

Behind all the smiles were the tears,
And behind all the comfort were the fears.
Everything you think you see
Wasn’t everything there was to me.

Day by day
I was slowly dying.
I couldn’t go on,
There was something missing..

Until now I’m still searching
For the thing that’ll stop my crying,
For someone who’ll erase my fears,
For the person who’ll wipe my tears.

But till then, I’ll keep on smiling,
Hiding behind this mask I’m wearing.
Hoping one day I can smile,
Till then, I’ll be here…waiting.

5. I Wish I Weren’t Alone

       by Jo

Once when I was little,
I was happy and carefree.
I used to run around laughing
Until it was time for tea.

I used to play games
And smile all the time.
I used to feel on top of the world.
I used to feel fine.

It’s amazing how things change
When people let you down.
And how that once happy face
Turns into a solemn frown.

You search and search
For someone who cares,
Anyone who understands,
Anyone who dares.

Loneliness, it hurts.
It kills you deep inside.
It makes you feel empty.
It stops you in your stride.

You cry yourself to sleep,
Hugging your pillow tight,
Wishing for someone
To hold you through the night.

Once when I was little,
I was happy and carefree.
Now my life’s full of sadness,
Pain and misery.

Once when I was little,
I was never on my own.
But now I pray at night,
“I wish I weren’t alone.”

6. A Lonely Star

       by Mikayela Dzenowski

A lonely star
sits in the sky.
It starts to flicker
and begins to cry.

A lonely star
looks down on us all.
It takes a step
and starts to fall.

A lonely star,
falling down
like an apple from a tree –
it still wears a frown.

A lonely star
laying on the ground;
it looks to the moon,
a home it never found.

A lonely star
whose light is fading
is cold and crying.
She spent her whole life waiting.

A lonely star
blinks her goodbyes.
Her light goes out
and she slowly dies.

7. Intimacy of Dark

       by Caitlin L. Stafford

To be kissed by moonlight
And caressed by stars,
Draped in darkened blue,
Dancing from Jupiter to Mars.

To be found by the light of the moon
And loved under a blackened sky.
Let the sun forget about me;
It never heard me cry.

Because there’s something special about moonlight,
Like it was made just for me,
Because no matter how bad things are,
I have the moon as company.

8. And I’m The Girl

       by Jillian Baker

I’m the girl who hides behind a smile every day.
I’m the girl who has a tough exterior,
But that’s not who I really am.
I’m the girl who has a lot of problems
But doesn’t share one thing.
I’m the girl who keeps everything bottled up.
Sometimes I just need someone to talk to.
Someone to care about me.
Someone to listen to my problems.
Someone to hold me when I cry.
Someone to love me.
Nobody knows the real me.
Nobody knows what I go through every day.
Nobody knows what I have to do just to make it through the day.
Nobody knows that I’m the girl who isn’t who I say I am.
And I’m the girl who will cry herself to sleep every night.

9. Lost Soul

       by Randall Pela

You pass me on the street and our eyes briefly meet.
You hold the door open for me as I enter behind you.
I say thanks, but you have no idea that my mind is blank.
In the elevator you crack a joke, I flash a smile.
You have no idea that my heart is in denial.
You ask me how my day was and I say fine.
You have no idea that my brain and I are arguing if I should cross the line.
My happiness is gone as I walk in this world.
The thoughts in my head have me wishing I were lying in a cold, dark hole.
Once you lose your soul, there is no turning back.
Everything you once dreamed of no longer has an impact.
You don’t want to love nor do you want to have fun.
Your days are so long the problems in your mind make you question if you should carry on.
You smile so that’s what people see on your face.
They think that you are happy, but deep down inside you feel like a worthless disgrace.
Each day the performance you put on for people is Emmy award winning,
But you question yourself and wonder if your act is just a way for you to hold off your own internal sinnings.
When you wake up from a night’s sleep,
You wonder to yourself if today is the day your heart will be back to its old self or will it still be skipping every other beat.
You wonder if things that once made you happy to be alive will make a comeback.
You wonder if the little things in life that made you who you are will have you once again dreaming to the stars.
You wonder if you will feel less empty-hearted.
You wonder to yourself who holds the match to start that fire.
You’re tired of running and losing your breath.
You want to hold tight to something that will help you once again enjoy the journey into life’s amazing treks.
You want to feel that every day can be better than the last.
You want to turn your lost soul feeling into a thing of your past.

Poems about Loneliness at Night

The darkness of night can intensify feelings of loneliness, making it a common theme in poetry. Poems about loneliness at night can explore the different facets of this emotion, from the quiet contemplation of solitude to the fear and isolation of being alone in the dark.

1. One Cold Lonely Night

       by Leugim Cacatian

One cold lonely night
One full moon that shines so bright
No bright stars above tonight.
To share with moon’s lonely light.

Yesterday I felt like it is forever.
But now it is all comes to never.
How can I go on with a life like this?
When my life, that is you whom I’ll always miss.

Now I’m sharing moons loneliness.
Without you here everything is sadness.
Then the clean velvet sky is now filled with dark cloud.
And the moon is now covered with that enigmatic shroud.

The heaven cries as the drops of rain falls.
And so as my eyes and in my cheek it gently rolls.

Poems about Loneliness in a Relationship

Loneliness can be a difficult emotion to reconcile with when we’re in a relationship. Poems about loneliness in a relationship can offer a way to explore the complexities of feeling alone even when we’re with someone else.

1. I Am Alone Anyway

       by Anonymous

Night after night
Day after day
I don’t know what has happened
We’ve suddenly nothing to say.
Well, that isn’t quite true
From my side of things,
I just get caught up in the silence
That your silence brings.
We used to talk,
We used to laugh,
Our own private jokes
Left other’s thinking us daft!
We used to touch,
We don’t anymore
I don’t know if you’ve noticed
Many things are not as before.
You aren’t engaged
In the little aspects of our life
Sometimes I forget ,
That I’m even your wife.

Poems about Loneliness and Pain

Loneliness can be a source of pain, both physical and emotional. Poems about loneliness and pain can offer a way to explore these feelings and find catharsis in the power of words.

1. In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad

       by A. E. Housman

In my own shire, if I was sad,
Homely comforters I had:
The earth, because my heart was sore,
Sorrowed for the son she bore;
And standing hills, long to remain,
Shared their short-lived comrade’s pain
And bound for the same bourn as I,
On every road I wandered by,
Trod beside me, close and dear,
The beautiful and death-struck year:
Whether in the woodland brown
I heard the beechnut rustle down,
And saw the purple crocus pale
Flower about the autumn dale;
Or littering far the fields of May
Lady-smocks a-bleaching lay,
And like a skylit water stood
The bluebells in the azured wood.

Yonder, lightening other loads,
The seasons range the country roads,
But here in London streets I ken
No such helpmates, only men;
And these are not in plight to bear,
If they would, another’s care.
They have enough as ’tis: I see
In many an eye that measures me
The mortal sickness of a mind
Too unhappy to be kind.
Undone with misery, all they can
Is to hate their fellow man;
And till they drop they needs must still
Look at you and wish you ill.

2. I Am!

       by John Clare

I am! yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death’s oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;
And e’en the dearest—that I loved the best—
Are strange—nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil’d or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below—above the vaulted sky.

3. I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone

       by Rainer Maria Rilke

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everday jug,
like my mother’s face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.

4. Lonely Is Just One Word

       by Mary Havran

Lonely is just one word chosen to represent so much
To tell of feelings inside that the senses cannot touch

Lonely can be in the teardrops on a bereaved person’s cheek
Lonely can be in the silence of sorrows too deep to speak

Lonely can haunt a deserted room that Laughter once made proud
Lonely surrounds you when you’re alone or finds you in a crowd

Lonely is heard in echoed footsteps of a departing friend
Lonely penetrates the solitude of nights that will not end

Lonely will not listen to the pleadings of a broken heart
Lonely stays and torments until new Love shatters it apart

5. On Broadway

       by Claude McKay

About me young careless feet
Linger along the garish street;
Above, a hundred shouting signs
Shed down their bright fantastic glow
Upon the merry crowd and lines
Of moving carriages below.
Oh wonderful is Broadway — only
My heart, my heart is lonely.

Desire naked, linked with Passion,
Goes trutting by in brazen fashion;
From playhouse, cabaret and inn
The rainbow lights of Broadway blaze
All gay without, all glad within;
As in a dream I stand and gaze
At Broadway, shining Broadway — only
My heart, my heart is lonely.

Poems about Loneliness and Isolation

Loneliness can make us feel isolated from others and from the world around us. Poems about loneliness and isolation can explore the feeling of being adrift, and offer a chance to find meaning and connection even in the midst of solitude.

1. Are You Lonely Tonight

       by Jeff Fleischer

Are you lonely tonight
Because your heart was broken?
Are you lonely tonight,
Shedding tears from all the emotion?
Please don’t be shy.
Just tell me if its okay for me to dropp by.
I’ll be the man you’ve always dreamed of.
I’ll hold you close to me and show you love.
I’ll help you through your pain and sorrow.
And after you wake up tomorrow,
We’ll take a walk near the ocean shore.
As time goes by, I’ll love you more and more.

2. A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed

       by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

If God compel thee to this destiny,
To die alone, with none beside thy bed
To ruffle round with sobs thy last word said
And mark with tears the pulses ebb from thee,–
Pray then alone, ‘ O Christ, come tenderly!
By thy forsaken Sonship in the red
Drear wine-press,–by the wilderness out-spread,–
And the lone garden where thine agony
Fell bloody from thy brow,–by all of those
Permitted desolations, comfort mine!
No earthly friend being near me, interpose
No deathly angel ‘twixt my face aud thine,
But stoop Thyself to gather my life’s rose,
And smile away my mortal to Divine! ‘

3. Speak of the North! A Lonely Moor

       by Charlotte Brontë

Speak of the North! A lonely moor
Silent and dark and tractless swells,
The waves of some wild streamlet pour
Hurriedly through its ferny dells.

Profoundly still the twilight air,
Lifeless the landscape; so we deem
Till like a phantom gliding near
A stag bends down to drink the stream.

And far away a mountain zone,
A cold, white waste of snow-drifts lies,
And one star, large and soft and lone,
Silently lights the unclouded skies.

4. The Loneliness One Dare Not Sound

       by Emily Dickinson

The Loneliness One dare not sound—
And would as soon surmise
As in its Grave go plumbing
To ascertain the size—

The Loneliness whose worst alarm
Is lest itself should see—
And perish from before itself
For just a scrutiny—

The Horror not to be surveyed—
But skirted in the Dark—
With Consciousness suspended—
And Being under Lock—

I fear me this—is Loneliness—
The Maker of the soul
Its Caverns and its Corridors
Illuminate—or seal—

5. I’m Nobody! Who Are You?

       by Emily Dickinson

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!

6. Lonely Am I

       by Jim Foulk

Lonely are the nights
Lonely are the days
Lonely am I, in so many ways

Lonely are the seasons
Lonely are the years
So lonely am I, that it brings tears.

Lonely is this place
Lonely is my life
Lonely am I, that I reach for a knife

Lonely is this court room
Lonely is my sentence
So lonely am I that I ask for repentance.

7. Flood: Years of Solitude

       by Dionisio D. Martínez

To the one who sets a second place at the table anyway.
To the one at the back of the empty bus.
To the ones who name each piece of stained glass projected on a white wall.
To anyone convinced that a monologue is a conversation with the past.
To the one who loses with the deck he marked.
To those who are destined to inherit the meek.
To us.

8. Those Winter Sundays

       By Robert Hayden

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?

9. Things

       by Lisel Mueller

What happened is, we grew lonely
living among the things,
so we gave the clock a face,
the chair a back,
the table four stout legs
which will never suffer fatigue.

We fitted our shoes with tongues
as smooth as our own
and hung tongues inside bells
so we could listen
to their emotional language,

and because we loved graceful profiles
the pitcher received a lip,
the bottle a long, slender neck.

Even what was beyond us
was recast in our image;
we gave the country a heart,
the storm an eye,
the cave a mouth
so we could pass into safety.

10. The Lonely Street

       by William Carlos Williams

School is over. It is too hot
to walk at ease. At ease
in light frocks they walk the streets
to while the time away.
They have grown tall. They hold
pink flames in their right hands.
In white from head to foot,
with sidelong, idle look–
in yellow, floating stuff,
black sash and stockings—

touching their avid mouths
with pink sugar on a stick–
like a carnation each holds in her hand–
they mount the lonely street.

11. One Lonely Afternoon

       by Russell Edson

Since the fern can’t go to the sink for a drink of
water, I graciously submit myself to the task, bringing two
glasses from the sink.
And so we sit, the fern and I, sipping water together.

Of course I’m more complex than a fern, full of deep
thoughts as I am. But I lay this aside for the easy company
of an afternoon friendship.

I don’t mind sipping water with a fern, even though,
had I my druthers, I’d be speeding through the sky for
Stockholm, sipping a bloody mary with a wedge of lime.

And so we sit one lonely afternoon sipping water
together. The fern looking out of its fronds, and I, looking
out of mine . . .

12. Evening Was Lonely

       by Rabindranath Tagore

The evening was lonely for me, and I was reading a book till my
heart became dry, and it seemed to me that beauty was a thing
fashioned by the traders in words. Tired I shut the book and
snuffed the candle. In a moment the room was flooded with
Spirit of Beauty, how could you, whose radiance overbrims the
sky, stand hidden behind a candle’s tiny flame? How could a few
vain words from a book rise like a mist, and veil her whose voice
has hushed the heart of earth into ineffable calm?

Poems about Loneliness and Death

Loneliness and death are two of the most profound human experiences, and poets have long explored the connection between the two. Poems about loneliness and death can offer a way to find solace in the inevitability of our own mortality and to explore the legacy we leave behind.

1. The Lonely Death

       by Adelaide Crapsey

In the cold I will rise, I will bathe
In waters of ice; myself
Will shiver, and shrive myself,
Alone in the dawn, and anoint
Forehead and feet and hands;
I will shutter the windows from light,
I will place in their sockets the four
Tall candles and set them a-flame
In the grey of the dawn; and myself
Will lay myself straight in my bed,
And draw the sheet under my chin.

2. Death is Not Silent

       by Anonymous

Moon on my pillow, I feel lost again
Whilst winter winds kiss the Tiffany pane
I only wish to sip wine and write
But my mind is swirling like a satellite

All night I hear the sighing shadows
From the fires of hell’s forever repose
Their breath rising from the dark tomb
Blowing throw the loneliness of my room

As the whisper grows louder coming near
Tis not the Grim Reaper I fear
I know how life’s farewell feels
For death is always at my heels

It can talk, talk, talk~~~

3. Pretending

       by Anonymous

In prepping for a sound night of sleep
So as to rise when dawn doth peep
I add honey to the warm milk and stir
But tonight my mind is thinking of her

The stars alight on my pillow
I curse the skies trifling peccadillo
My heavy-heart tied up in knots
Countless grow my quite thoughts

Beauty gone! Nothing but this lonely bed
No love no passionate desires fed
Her scent gone and yet ne’er ending
So here I lay dreaming and pretending

Trying to embrace the moon~~~

4. The Raven

       by Anonymous

My raven soul loves ash & cemetery trees
And flies to the preordained resting place
My spirit feeling like a shadow no one sees
The thorns & stoic stones scar my face~

I wear a wet eye war with life and death
My feathers fleeced by time I fall like leaves
The Autumn air asphyxiates my last breath
From atop a bare branch a crow grieves~

Here I lay insipid come rain come rust
My heart is covered in graveyard dust~

Who will weep for a raven?

5. Potters Field~ English Haiku

       by Anonymous

potters field
sans flower sans visitor
the crows bell-like sound

6. Death’s Bell is Ringing

       by Anonymous

There’s a sound quieter than sleep in this tiny room
A soul tis wandering I can hear its little bell
Shy in the door way and shy in the gloom
How strange our whispered words that tell
Of love, nature, death and the fires of hell~

The healed heart shows it’s shallow scar
A syllable whose word saves it from despair
Internal differences where the meanings are
Half-taugh in anguish through the midnight air
Ruptures it’s own cloud, my flesh doth perish there

Before the dread doom of death~

7. The Path to Potters Field

       by Anonymous

All things are not what they seem
I fled to solitudes from passions dream
To seek out sorrow that dwells everywhere
Bring forth the fire and I shall hither there
For the soul is dead that slumbers!
Tell me not in mournful numbers
Unmarked graves, wilted flowers on a lonely life
Now ere the unthinking silence on that strife?
The Rose has blown wretched in the wind
Unseen! And Faithful friends are hard to find!

Tell me this,
Are we verily an unsung soul
The unloved thorn that dies with the rose
Is life but an empty dream?

8. Receding Tide

       by Anonymous

I sit and watch the seven seas,
awash with tears of brine.
The empty sands are refugees,
the moon has lost its shine.

I feel the wind, a restless breeze,
become a lonesome whine.
This deep regret is hard to seize,
our lives no more entwine.

No more a touch, a feel, a squeeze,
no more your hand in mine;
no more the warmth, the gift to please.

I weep for Caroline.

Final Thoughts

In exploring the many different facets of loneliness through poetry, we can gain a deeper understanding of this universal human emotion.

From famous poets to short and rhyming verses, from the pain of depression to the isolation of a long night, and from relationships to death, poetry offers a powerful tool for exploring and expressing the complex emotions of loneliness.

These poems about feeling alone can serve as a message that we are not alone in our solitude, and that even in our darkest moments, there is beauty and connection to be found.

Ultimately, through poetry, we can find solace, comfort, and hope in the shared experience of being human.

What effect do these poems for loneliness have on you?

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