I sat there for hours that day,
with my wrenching heart.
It ached as if an arrow was through me.
I usually felt peace in the water.
But that day, I wished someone had rubbed my chest,
someone called out my name
and showed as much empathy as I always held for others.
Unfortunately, not even my own could feel except,
the water called me and said it could end my pain,
for this world has always crushed innocent souls and an empathetic heart.
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Author:
Cynthia Seven (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 6th, 2026 11:44
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote it being inspired by the painting, the painting does not belong to me - only the poem is original and is my rightful work. I tried to depict through the picture a pain within, a battle that even our own haven't understood. Might sound suicidal, as I mentioned, water calls, even when something brings peace, it could also be what makes you sit with yourself until you let go of what hurts you. NOTE: I am doing fine.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 27
Offline)
Comments5
There is pain in this poem and a desire to depart. Well done
Thank you, friend, it means a lot.
My pleasure Samprikta
a most deep poem
I appreciate you coming by and reading it, Thank you!
most welcome
Down Dismal then Delighted
Sitting next to the sea.
Smelling the fresh and salty air.
Perhaps, a hint of Ozone.
Search the horizon for what I can see.
A boat, a ship, the rising Sun, what do I care?
My heart's broken, my love is gone.
The ocean has taken her away from me.
My pain becomes more than I can bear.
How can I exist all alone?
Something is there, I hope I can see.
Two women surfing, A fun-loving pair.
Perhaps, I will take their picture on my phone.
"Hi, can I take your picture while you're in the sea?"
"Yes? Great, keep your wet suits on, don't worry about your hair."
"If you like I'll send it to your phones."
"What are your names? Oh, and your numbers please."
"Thanks, O.K. Mind if I call you there? Great!'
Wow, I think my pains all gone.
My poem per your request. Enjoyed your poem. Never felt that it might mean suicide. Just a poor soul waiting for the next episode in his life, - Phil A.
I agree, the fear of uncertainty.
Thank you so much, sir. That the poem is beautiful makes my heart warm, but does mingling with others make it any better? Or just observing the beauty, how must someone come out of the fear of uncertainty?
This means so much to me.
I surely am scared of uncertainties.
Hauntingly beautiful. 🌹
Thank you so much Teddy ❤️
glad you put the footnote that you are doing well - it's definitely an inspired piece...
Thank you, and I was scared of uncertainties so.... I ended up writing in fear, and so much other stuff just came altogether.
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