the saddest most heart-jerking poem you ever seen or heard?

Question

i have searched the internet for peoms that bring tears to my eyes and only found one, you know, "my name is chris i am three my eyes are swollen i cannot see" that one? well i know there are more than that, con youguys give me a few sad poems? please?

Answer 1

Little Boy Blue by Eugene Field.

Eugene Field wrote the poem about his termally ill son. it is heartwrenching. I hope you enjoy it.

http://www.amherst.edu/~rjyanco94/literature/eugenefield/poems/poemsofchildhood/littleboyblue.html

If this url doesn't hold up in publishing, search on Little Boy Blue.

Answer 2

Here are some great classics of tragic poetry:
The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes
I Have a Rendezvous with Death by Alan Seeger
In Flanders Fields by Lt.-Col. John McCrae
O Captain, My Captain by Walt Whitman.

Check these out…

Answer 3

This is my favourite. It it sad, yet comforting at the same time:

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

There is a song that every Aussie will know called "I Was Only Nineteen", that always strikes a chord with me too.

Answer 4

this one, to me, is sad

My paper, my pencils, my keychains, my glue,
They're nowhere to be found, nowhere, it's true,
But it does not matter much
That, now, I don't have any work to do.

The sigh for the loss of rainy days overcast
Along the lake after the shingly overpass
Does not matter much
That, now, the time does not go so fast.

The whispering gasp for the loss of sight
For lush daybreak after the night,
Does not matter much
That, now, to see, I need no light.

The weeping for the loss of wedding rings,
Fitted and dusty, those were angel wings,
Does not matter much
That, now, I need not the shape of things.

And the loss of my home, beneath the sky,
That sits near a river where the salmon swim by,
Does not matter much
That, now, home is here, where I now lie.

And the wailing for the loss of my city,
Where the lions sleep as they may,
Does not matter much,
We all end up the remains of the day.

But the tragedy of the loss of you, my child,
For the only one I've wept for,
The only one I adore,
Has mattered, but not much anymore,
Because you know I'll wait for you
On God's golden shore.

K. Jared Hosein

Answer 5

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas is pretty powerful.

Answer 6

Mulatto by Hughes

Because I could not stop for death, by Dickinson

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe

Answer 7

Let me get some tissues.

I always cry when I read the tribute Lord Byron wrote for Boatswain, his Newfoundland, when he died.

INSCRIPTION ON THE MONUMENT
OF A NEWFOUNDLAND DOG.
A Memorial to Boatswain
by
Lord Byron
Newstead Abbey, November 30, 1808.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Near this spot
Are deposited the Remains of one
Who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
And all the Virtues of Man without his Vices.
This Praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery
If inscribed over human ashes,
Is but a just tribute to the Memory of
BOATSWAIN, a DOG
Who was born at Newfoundland, May, 1803,
And died at Newstead, Nov 18th, 1808.

When some proud son of man returns to earth,

Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,

The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe,

And storied urns record who rest below:

When all is done, upon the tomb is seen,

Not what he was, but what he should have been:

But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend,

The first to welcome, foremost to defend,

Whose honest heart is still his master's own,

Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,

Unhonour'd falls, unnoticed all his worth,

Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth:

While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,

And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.

Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,

Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power,

Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust,

Degraded mass of animated dust!

Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,

Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit!

By nature vile, ennobled but by name,

Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.

Ye! who perchance behold this simple urn,

Pass on --- it honours none you wish to mourn:

To mark a friend's remains these stones arise;

I never knew but one, --- and here he lies.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"The Rainbow Bridge" is another tear-jerker for me.
http://rainbowsbridge.com/Poem.htm

Answer 8

i know of one"the unquiet grave" by anyonomous. it's sad about one died,another grieving.