Loss Poems | 10 Poems for Loss, Grief, Consolation


    Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
    If the trees must, let them silently toss;
    No bird is singing now, and if there is,
    Be it my loss.

    It will be long ere the marshes resume,
    I will be long ere the earliest bird:
    So close the windows and not hear the wind,
    But see all wind-stirred.

    Absolution Poem by Siegfried Sassoon

    The anguish of the earth absolves our eyes
    Till beauty shines in all that we can see.
    War is our scourge; yet war has made us wise,
    And, fighting for our freedom, we are free.

    Horror of wounds and anger at the foe,
    And loss of things desired; all these must pass.
    We are the happy legion, for we know
    Time’s but a golden wind that shakes the grass.

    There was an hour when we were loth to part
    From life we longed to share no less than others.
    Now, having claimed this heritage of heart,
    What need we more, my comrades and my brothers?

    Cheerfulness Taught By Reason Poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

    I think we are too ready with complaint
    In this fair world of God’s. Had we no hope
    Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope
    Of yon gray blank of sky, we might grow faint
    To muse upon eternity’s constraint
    Round our aspirant souls; but since the scope
    Must widen early, is it well to droop,
    For a few days consumed in loss and taint?
    O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted
    And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road
    Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread
    Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod
    To meet the flints? At least it may be said
    ‘ Because the way is short, I thank thee, God. ‘

    Just Get Over It (Depression Depression Depression Depression) Poem by Udiah (witness to Yah)

    ‘Just get over it, ‘ they say
    I wish I could find a way
    Living with it day by day
    Memories won’t go away

    Medication helps to sway
    Many feelings of dismay
    But they do fail to decay
    The loss that one does survey

    Let the Lord of All
    Show me The Way

    A Light Exists In Spring Poem by Emily Dickinson

    A light exists in spring
    Not present on the year
    At any other period.
    When March is scarcely here

    A color stands abroad
    On solitary hills
    That science cannot overtake,
    But human naturefeels.

    It waits upon the lawn;
    It shows the furthest tree
    Upon the furthest slope we know;
    It almost speaks to me.

    Then, as horizons step,
    Or noons report away,
    Without the formula of sound,
    It passes, and we stay:

    A quality of loss
    Affecting our content,
    As trade had suddenly encroached
    Upon a sacrament.

    An Irish Airman Forsees His Death Poem by William Butler Yeats

    I know that I shall meet my fate
    Somewhere among the clouds above;
    Those that I fight I do not hate,
    Those that I guard I do not love;
    My county is Kiltartan Cross,
    My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
    No likely end could bring them loss
    Or leave them happier than before.
    Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
    Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
    A lonely impulse of delight
    Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
    I balanced all, brought all to mind,
    The years to come seemed waste of breath,
    A waste of breath the years behind
    In balance with this life, this death.

    A Broken Appointment Poem by Thomas Hardy

    You did not come,
    And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb.
    Yet less for loss of your dear presence there
    Than that I thus found lacking in your make
    That high compassion which can overbear
    Reluctance for pure lovingkindness’ sake
    Grieved I, when, as the hope-hour stroked its sum,
    You did not come.

    You love not me,
    And love alone can lend you loyalty;
    -I know and knew it. But, unto the store
    Of human deeds divine in all but name,
    Was it not worth a little hour or more
    To add yet this: Once you, a woman, came
    To soothe a time-torn man; even though it be
    You love not me.

    A Conceit Poem by Maya Angelou

    Give me your hand

    Make room for me
    to lead and follow
    beyond this rage of poetry.

    Let others have
    the privacy of
    touching words
    and love of loss
    of love.

    For me
    Give me your hand.