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Poems About: SYMPATHY

In this page, poems on / about “sympathy” are listed.

  • 325.
    Whatever

    My hand is a mirror of all my broken hearts
    I would give you thirty hugs if I could see your smile again
    Listen to my bleeding heartbeat
    And understand the pain I feel read more »

    Shannon Dunlap
  • 326.
    Image In The Mirror

    A smoker wants some sympathy
    He wants you to understand
    The terrible anxious feeling he has
    When he's under the cigarette's command read more »

    Alessandra Liverani
  • 327.
    Unsensational Clutter

    Lets all take this moment
    to rest the sun on our
    faces
    look up read more »

    Robert Brendan
  • 328.
    One

    Further into the forest i crept
    and sat alone, weary eyed, and wept
    At the cream yellow colored sun set
    That happened as the world soundly dreamt read more »

    Warren Augustus de Guzman
  • 329.
    I and me and you

    I am the redeemer
    I will search your soul
    to look for all you've given
    and seek for all you hold read more »

    Charles M. Moore
  • 330.
    Her name is woman something

    You are more beautiful to my heart than others
    under the dim street lights.
    I know that I cannot expect love,
    anyhow, we can have a friendly chat read more »

    nimal dunuhinga
  • 331.
    The Fall

    My sky is dark again
    I’m tired of looking for sympathy
    Tired of my life
    Tired of this mad world read more »

    Melissa Koeman
  • 332.
    Look into my Eyes

    Stare deeply into what you see
    My eyes have yet to abandon thee
    Comfort, compassion, and god forbid sympathy
    Not the i pity you kind, it's the i love you kind read more »

    Guarded Heart
  • 333.
    Curator

    My life’s a museum of memories buried
    in a mausoleum to matrimony kept
    scrupulously clean – there is no distinction
    between exhibits and things living read more »

    Ivan Donn Carswell
  • 334.
    another venue

    with other confines....stabilities...ornamentation....
    a place of grassland sleep...
    a whisper not
    of that roped and tied and trampled read more »

    delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........
  • 335.
    The Land’s Lied

    Near to Scarborough bay
    There’s a scar, burrowed away
    By underground streams
    Which have undermined dreams read more »

    C Richard Miles
  • 336.
    how does on touch really and where?

    empathy does not have hands.
    neither does sympathy
    have lips. read more »

    RIC S. BASTASA
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