sadness (Remove filter)

Does anyone know?

What does anyone know of my rebelliousness,

my tears of blood,

of the wounds of my thoughts?


What does anyone know

if my heart is a dreary and deep space,

if it is perfect or imperfect,

or a chaos of mirages?


What does anyone know

if my weeping has long strands,

whether my days are electric or serene,

or if I live an autumn of orphanhood?


Does anyone...

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Like abandoned papers...

Just as the wind barges in,

seeping into nature,

I feel a sudden breeze wrap me up in sadness


Shattered by the dead weight of indifference, 

I fall like a leaf from a shaken tree


I descend into an abyss where time no longer exists; 

only emptiness and fear


The night pulls me down,

I find myself in a net of darkness,

immersed in my childhood memories,


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In silence

In silence,

      tears that express their agonizing language

            Tears that have names,



                         and ignored pain

                                 ©Noris Roberts


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How does It feel?

How does it feel

when a dagger hovers over life,

when anarchy oppresses with brutality,

when dreams dissolve

and let no traces to contemplate?


How does it feel

when everything is swarmed by violence,

insensitivity; clear and humiliating absence of piety?


We are all instruments for an occasion;

others are escorted only by ambition


Oblivious to the world,


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I seek

After hearing the voice of despotism,

the cries of the hungry looking in the trash for bread,

the bitter language of solitude,

I look in the blue sky for serenity;

I create a landscape and try to dream


I seek peace among the white fingers of the aurora


After not finding the line of understanding,

the root of the soul,

the wind of justice,

the submerged freedom,


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With his hands stained with blood

Mr. Maduro, I am enveloped and driven by a superb energy and leave you a message, on behalf of millions of angry hearts, a simple message: We want you to go away!

All of this has been more than enough. We are tired of your evilness, your abuses, your cynicism, your humiliations and want you to know that we are all swathed with your "mistakes". We demand to return to the Venezuela that our paren...

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I write because...

I write to return to sanity,

to give respite to my bitterness,

to avoid falling into the void,

to feel that I'm alive


To calm my overwhelmed reproaches,

to the muffled word that grinds my insomnia

until I’m diluted in the wind


To speed up the torrent that my body needs,

that germinates flowery fragments within

and not move on through uncertain paths


I w...

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This morning my pen confesses

My orphaned poetry,

protagonist of my sunset,

lyrics roam in disappointment

and disenchantment


The rigor of silence,

feeling that it is impossible

to live without your love


This urge to love you

condemns me to the passion

of becoming a woman on your skin


How many days of nostalgia ran through my body?


How much longing for the kiss that you left ...

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No finish line

Tied to the cavities of the night,

life becomes written tears in my eyes;

every part of my body has its wound

and I unceasingly wander in the aggregate pitfalls of a fog


Before me the cross of loneliness turns to me,

pass painful valleys,

there’s nothing left standing

only dents in my soul


Between fear and courage,

cold and misery tally each step,

waiting is...

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My heart is a lonely flower...


My heart is a lonely flower aged by pain,

misunderstood by dreams

that where denied by life


A dead flower, forgotten,

inclined towards  hope

that  learned to give treason a name



there are flowers that bathe themselves in the morning sun,

even for some reason that never existed


And although it is the most humble little flower,


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From always ...


Nothing happens, I have no answers

Only the great sadness seems to assist me

Faced with despair, people are losing their identity

The word violence plays its language

Everything is corrupted

Everything looks bad, aging

In the thunder of the night I discover that my brother is my enemy

The only thing real is this sad reality


©Noris Roberts


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