Sad Poems: A Sad Child - Poem by Margaret Atwood

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A Sad Child - Poem by Margaret Atwood

You're sad because you're sad.
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.

Well, all children are sad
but some get over it.
Count your blessings. Better than that,
buy a hat. Buy a coat or pet.
Take up dancing to forget.

Forget what?
Your sadness, your shadow,
whatever it was that was done to you
the day of the lawn party
when you came inside flushed with the sun,
your mouth sulky with sugar,
in your new dress with the ribbon
and the ice-cream smear,
and said to yourself in the bathroom,
I am not the favorite child.

My darling, when it comes
right down to it
and the light fails and the fog rolls in
and you're trapped in your overturned body
under a blanket or burning car,

and the red flame is seeping out of you
and igniting the tarmac beside your head
or else the floor, or else the pillow,
none of us is;
or else we all are.

Comments about A Sad Child by Margaret Atwood

  • Richard Antwi 6/22/2020 2:36:00 PM

    The 4th and 5th stanza are too sad to read
    Sad, indeed!
    Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • Dr Tony Brahmin 5/20/2020 3:42:00 PM

    and the red flame is seeping out of you
    and igniting the tarmac beside your head
    or else the floor, or else the pillow,
    none of us is;
    or else we all are. very fine poem. tony
    Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Britte Ninad 3/4/2020 3:29:00 AM

    with the ribbon
    and the ice-cream smear,
    and said to yourself in the bathroom,
    I am not the favorite child.

    sadistic note
    Reply

    4 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Mahtab Bangalee 3/1/2020 4:09:00 AM

    great poem penned///

    let's go forget the sorrow
    we the maker
    we savior
    our life, our world
    let's come the good morrow
    Reply

    6 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • James odhiambo 1/28/2020 2:41:00 PM

    Count thy blessings and stop sulking Reply

    3 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • Lifa Netmail 7/25/2019 12:56:00 PM

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  • ritumoni das 7/22/2019 11:47:00 AM

    wonderful poem Reply

    5 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Wufekepel Maillist 7/18/2019 12:06:00 PM

    ᴍʏ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ ᴘᴀʏᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴡᴀs ғᴏʀ 15000 ᴅᴏʟʟᴀʀs… ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ᴡᴀs sɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ ᴀᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ 3-5 ʜᴏᴜʀs/ᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜɪs ᴀɢᴇɴᴄʏ ɪ ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ
    ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴘᴀɪᴅ ᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ɪᴛ 95-500 ʙᴜᴄᴋs ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ʜᴏᴜʀ… ᴛʀʏ ɪᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ.. http: //www.giftprofit.com.
    Reply

    3 person liked.
    11 person did not like.
  • Adeeb Alfateh 6/24/2019 3:57:00 AM

    Forget what?
    Your sadness, your shadow,
    whatever it was that was done to you
    the day of the lawn party
    when you came inside flushed with the sun,
    your mouth sulky with sugar,
    in your new dress with the ribbon
    and the ice-cream smear,
    and said to yourself in the bathroom,
    I am not the favorite child.

    great sad10++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++x100000000000000000000
    Reply

    8 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Bully Killer 5/15/2019 12:03:00 AM

    Some real intellectuals in here. The only words you can say gay fat little punk in denial transgender kids. Reply

    4 person liked.
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Read all 89 comments »
Sad Poems
  1. 1. A Sad Child
    Margaret Atwood
  2. 2. A Fairly Sad Tale
    Dorothy Parker
  3. 3. ‘and Ask Ye Why These Sad Tears Stream?’
    Alfred Lord Tennyson
  4. 4. The Sad Mother
    Gabriela Mistral
  5. 5. Be Not Sad
    James Joyce
  6. 6. A Sad State Of Freedom
    Nazim Hikmet
  7. 7. Sad In Blue (A Lyric)
    Peter S. Quinn
  8. 8. Sad
    Cristina Geanta
  9. 9. For A Sad Lady
    Dorothy Parker
  10. 10. To A Sad Daughter
    Michael Ondaatje
  11. 11. My Sad Captains
    Thom Gunn
  12. 12. Sit Down, Sad Soul
    Barry Cornwall
  13. 13. In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad
    Alfred Edward Housman
  14. 14. Sad Green Eyes
    Linda Ori
  15. 15. Baseball's Sad Lexicon
    Franklin Pierce Adams
  16. 16. Sad-Eyed And Soft And Grey
    William Morris
  17. 17. With How Sad Steps, O Moon, Thou Climb's..
    William Wordsworth
  18. 18. Close Those Sad Sad Eyes
    Beautiful Grim
  19. 19. To The Sad Moon
    Sir Philip Sidney
  20. 20. Bored And Sad
    Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
  21. 21. Sad Is Stupid
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  22. 22. The Journey Of A Poem Compared To All Th..
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  23. 23. Weep You No More, Sad Fountains
    Anonymous Olde English
  24. 24. Peacock Story 8 - A Sad Poem
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  25. 25. The Bad Season Makes The Poet Sad
    Robert Herrick
  26. 26. Sad Song
    Rahel Bluwstein
  27. 27. Phantasmagoria Canto Vii ( Sad Souvenaun..
    Lewis Carroll
  28. 28. The Lacking Sense Scene.--A Sad-Coloured..
    Thomas Hardy
  29. 29. Sonnet Xxxi: With How Sad Steps, O Moon
    Sir Philip Sidney
  30. 30. Sad Sad Day
    Laura Green
  31. 31. ! To A God-Daughter On Her Sad Poem
    Michael Shepherd
  32. 32. To A Sad Girl
    Uriah Hamilton
  33. 33. Sonnet Iii: With How Sad Steps
    Sir Philip Sidney
  34. 34. A Sad Sad Story
    Joyce Hemsley
  35. 35. .sad Girl
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  36. 36. Sonnet: Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From..
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  37. 37. Sad Cypress
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  38. 38. The Sad Day
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  39. 39. ! ! A Sad Tale Of Consumerism
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  40. 40. ! The Sad Story Of Happiness
    Michael Shepherd
  41. 41. I Sing A Sad Song
    Dorothy (Alves) Holmes
  42. 42. Sad
    Lovina Sylvia Chidi
  43. 43. ’tis A Sad, Mad World!
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  44. 44. The Sad Shepherd
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  45. 45. Sad And Lonely
    Taher Shemaly
  46. 46. Mad And Sad
    Samantha Guinen
  47. 47. The Sad Bastards Club
    Francesca Johnson
  48. 48. Happy & Sad
    Sumita Datta
  49. 49. Sad Eyes
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  50. 50. Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From Day To ..
    William Lisle Bowles

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Sad Poems

  1. Be Not Sad

    Be not sad because all men Prefer a lying clamour before you: Sweetheart, be at peace again -- - Can they dishonour you? They are sadder than all tears; Their lives ascend as a continual sigh. Proudly answer to their tears: As they deny, deny.

  2. A Fairly Sad Tale

    I think that I shall never know Why I am thus, and I am so. Around me, other girls inspire In men the rush and roar of fire, The sweet transparency of glass, The tenderness of April grass, The durability of granite; But me- I don't know how to plan it. The lads I've met in Cupid's deadlock Were- shall we say?- born out of wedlock. They broke my heart, they stilled my song, And said they had to run along, Explaining, so to sop my tears, First came their parents or careers. But ever does experience Deny me wisdom, calm, and sense! Though she's a fool who seeks to capture The twenty-first fine, careless rapture, I must go on, till ends my rope, Who from my birth was cursed with hope. A heart in half is chaste, archaic; But mine resembles a mosaic- The thing's become ridiculous! Why am I so? Why am I thus?

  3. The Sad Mother

    Sleep, sleep, my beloved, without worry, without fear, although my soul does not sleep, although I do not rest. Sleep, sleep, and in the night may your whispers be softer than a leaf of grass, or the silken fleece of lambs. May my flesh slumber in you, my worry, my trembling. In you, may my eyes close and my heart sleep.

  4. ‘and Ask Ye Why These Sad Tears Stream?’

    'And ask ye why these sad tears stream?' ‘Te somnia nostra reducunt.’ OVID. And ask ye why these sad tears stream? Why these wan eyes are dim with weeping? I had a dream–a lovely dream, Of her that in the grave is sleeping. I saw her as ’twas yesterday, The bloom upon her cheek still glowing; And round her play’d a golden ray, And on her brows were gay flowers blowing. With angel-hand she swept a lyre, A garland red with roses bound it; Its strings were wreath’d with lambent fire And amaranth was woven round it. I saw her mid the realms of light, In everlasting radiance gleaming; Co-equal with the seraphs bright, Mid thousand thousand angels beaming. I strove to reach her, when, behold, Those fairy forms of bliss Elysian, And all that rich scene wrapt in gold, Faded in air–a lovely vision! And I awoke, but oh! to me That waking hour was doubly weary; And yet I could not envy thee, Although so blest, and I so dreary.