Skip to main content

When your gaze found mine #lovepoem #surrealpoem #poetrydaily

When your gaze found mine, the whole world swayed, As if the earth had missed a hidden beat; The sunlight suddenly grew unafraid, Then melted like warm gold around my feet. I tried to look away, but something stayed, A trembling little universe in you; My eyes became two doors I could not close, And every secret seemed to wander through. I felt my cheeks turn roses in the rain, A sudden fire underneath my skin; The stars began to whisper my sweet shame, While little suns kept blooming from within. Your eyes were not just eyes, they were a place, A strange blue room where gravity was gone; I wandered through the silence of your gaze And somehow lost the person I was on. My heartbeat stumbled, then forgot its name, It ran barefoot through corridors of light; I blushed as though the moon had called me beautiful, Then hid my face from heaven's watching sight. The trees leaned closer, jealous of the view, The flowers opened wider just to see; Even the wind became unusually shy, As thoug...
Post a Comment

I Live With Tears Every Day #sadpoetry

I live with tears every day,
not the kind the world can see,
but the ones that drown a soul
while the face remembers how to smile.

I have become
a stranger to happiness,
a traveler wandering
through endless nights
where even the moon
cannot find me.

Every sunrise
feels like another promise
that forgot my name.
Every sunset
buries another piece of me
that never found its way home.

There are wounds
time refuses to touch,
memories
that sharpen themselves
each time I close my eyes.

I have held conversations
with empty rooms,
embraced silence
as though it were the last friend
who never chose to leave,
and whispered prayers
that echoed back
without an answer.

The tears never ask permission.
They arrive
like faithful visitors,
sitting beside me
through lonely evenings,
sleeping beside me
through restless nights,
awakening with me
before the dawn.

Some people
call it sadness.

They do not know
what it means
to carry a heart
that beats like a funeral bell,
mourning dreams
that died
while the body
continued to breathe.

I envy the rain.

At least
when the sky cries,
the earth welcomes it.
When I cry,
I become another story
people grow tired of hearing,
another soul
they tell us to be stronger,
as if strength
has never broken
behind closed doors.

Yet here I stand,
stitched together
by scars no one applauds,
breathing through pain
that has memorized my name,
walking through darkness
that follows like a shadow
determined to become me.

Perhaps
the cruelest part of sorrow
is not that it hurts,

it is that it teaches you
how to laugh
while your heart
quietly collapses.

Still,
beneath this endless flood,
a tiny flame refuses to die.

It flickers
against every storm,
every goodbye,
every sleepless night,
every tear
that has fallen unnoticed.

Maybe hope
is not the absence of pain.

Maybe hope
is choosing to breathe
with trembling lungs,
to rise
with a shattered heart,
to believe
that somewhere beyond
this endless night,
there is a dawn
patiently waiting
for those
who survived the darkness.

Until that day,
I will carry my tears
like silent prayers,
my scars
like unwritten poems,
and my broken heart
like proof
that even after being shattered
a thousand times,

it never forgot
how to love.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's Not About You #poemaday #poetryaddict #poem

The mountain never bowed to applause, Nor did the river pause for tears. The sky has carried a thousand storms Without remembering a single face. You are a traveler, not the road. A heartbeat, not the clock. The world was already speaking Long before it learned your name. Some goodbyes bloom from seasons, Not from mistakes. Some distances are drawn by time, Not by the hands that reach across them. Don't make yourself the author Of every unfinished sentence. Some pages are left blank Because silence belongs there. There is a strange mercy In not standing at the center Of every ending, Of every change. The sun does not rise to prove a point. The stars do not dim to send a message. Life simply unfolds, Wild, indifferent, beautiful. So carry your kindness, Leave your footprints lightly, And when the world turns without asking, Smile. It's not about you. That's how it is. © 2026 Gloria Penelope
Post a Comment
Read more

Where Her Heartbeat Remains #sadpoetry #poetryaddict #poemofgrief

She was here, for a moment too small for the clocks to measure, too brief for the world to understand, yet long enough to leave fingerprints upon a mother's soul. A baby girl. A whispered promise wrapped in fragile dreams, carried beneath a hopeful heart that had already imagined a thousand tomorrows. Then came the silence. A silence so heavy it bent the walls inward. A silence that settled inside empty rooms, inside folded blankets, inside the spaces where laughter was meant to grow. The mother wept. Not the gentle tears that fall with ordinary sadness. These were ancient tears. The kind born from a wound too deep for language, too sacred for explanation. She cried for first steps that would never mark the floor. For tiny hands that would never reach for hers. For lullabies that would remain unsung, their melodies trapped forever inside her trembling chest. Night after night, she gathered her grief like broken glass. Each memory, each dream, each unanswered prayer cut her anew. Th...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Kind of Love That Stays #lovepoetry #poetrydaily #poetryaddict

I did not fall for you like people fall in movies. There was no thunder, no sudden music, no heaven opening its hands. You simply stayed a little longer than you should have. And somehow, that was enough. You learned the quiet parts of me, the places I keep locked, the old wounds I cover with ordinary conversation. You never asked me to explain the darkness. You sat beside it. That frightened me. Because I had spent so long believing love meant being saved, I did not know what to do with someone who could look at my brokenness and call it beautiful. Sometimes I wonder if we found each other too late. You carrying your ghosts, me carrying mine, two wounded souls pretending we were not recognizing each other. Our love was never soft. It had teeth. It lived in midnight conversations, in jealous silences, in the ache of almost losing one another. You could hurt me without raising your voice. I could break your heart with nothing more than the distance in my eyes. And still, when the night ...
Post a Comment
Read more