Poems With Analysis

Published: May 2018

Poems With Analysis Of Form And Technique

54 Poems With Analysis Of Form And Technique

Are you looking for poems with a certain technique, or do you want to learn about techniques such as using rhyming, metaphors, and personification? You'll find an Analysis of Form and Technique box that showcases poetic techniques used in these poems and provides links to articles further explaining those techniques. Are you looking for inspiration and a format to write your own poetry? Check out the Try It Yourself articles, complete with PDFs to print and begin using for your own writing.

1 - 20 of 54

    Storms have fascinated me since I was a child. Although I now understand them a bit better, I can understand how people through history have associated storms to particular mythological gods, and mysterious occurrences of nature with folklore and other stories. I just wanted to set the feeling of a summer storm and give a little credit back to the mythological gods who were so infamous in creating these storms during ancient times. I hope my poem is enjoyed by storm lovers everywhere!

    Mighty Tempest

    Poem About Storms

    in Beauty of Nature Poems

    Sultry sun on fields and bay,
    quiet calm engulfs the day.

    Faint troubled rumblings in the sky
    foretells a mighty storm is nigh.

    Feathered fowl that glide the breeze
    quickly fly to nest in trees.

    A silent sense of darkness fell,
    as clouds began to twirl and swell.

    A yellow haze of green and gray
    replaces sun and heat of day.

    Thunderous cannons roar the sky
    with veins of light that pierce the eye.

    The day has darkened into night
    as Thor and Zeus pursue their might!

    Raging winds that bend and sway,
    tearing limbs along the way.

    Bursting clouds of icy hail;
    Nature's sting is quite surreal!

    The faded rumblings start to slow,
    and sultry sun peaks out to glow,

    Mighty Tempest, come and gone.
    Ancient storm gods carry on,
    leaving rainbows in the dawn!

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    I was not born during 9/11, but my parents would tell me memories of that day. The family we lost. The friends who were killed. The heroes that gave their lives. I am now 13 years old. I dedicate this to Lawrence Patrick Dickinson, a man who died in the Twin Towers. His son was born 3 months later on HIS birthday and was named after him. He is a man who will always be remembered.

    Forever Remember

    • By Grace G. Frost
    • Published: September 2018
    I Remember 9/11

    in Current Events Poems

    I remember
    Planes flying low
    Smoke from the towers
    Cries from the injured
    Calls for help
    People running
    Sobs from witnesses
    Heroes running in the towers
    Faces we will never see again
    I remember
    The towers falling
    Smoke filling the air
    People running for safety
    Screams of terror
    I remember
    The quiet
    People in the streets
    Heroes walking around the rubble
    Whispers in the streets
    I remember
    Victims not forgotten
    Heroes not forgotten
    Sacrifices not forgotten
    Memories not forgotten
    I remember 9/11

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    I met a girl in an unexpected place, and I never thought I'd fall in love with her. Getting to know each other, I realized we just share a lot of things in common. We both come from a sad past the broke our hearts. But I found home in her. I wrote this poem for her to let her know that everything's gonna be all right from now on. Just let me take care of you from here on out.

    Let Me

    I Will Take Care Of You

    in Romantic Poems

    Let me take care of your broken heart
    and show you how to fly.
    Let me hold you gently by the hand
    and kiss your tears goodbye.

    Let me lead you to tomorrow's light
    and out of needless rain,
    'cause all I want right now
    is to see you smile again.

    Let me sing you all the songs I wrote
    'til you sleep in my embrace,
    and I'll keep you safe and warm until
    the sunlight strokes your face.

    Let me bring you up the mountain's peak,
    and I'll let you touch the skies
    to remind you of the strength I see
    when I look into your eyes.

    Let me kiss and show you what is love
    and the happiness it brings.
    You'll sail again like a butterfly
    endowed with pretty wings.

    Let me do all these to let you see
    our fates are intertwined.
    You're the accidental precious gem
    I've waited long to find.

    The earth and sky conspired to make us meet.
    They knew we both belong
    to each other like words and lovely notes
    give life to every song.

    So fly with me, my beautiful one.
    It's time we leave the past.
    I'm yours to keep, and you are mine.
    We're finally home at last.

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    Love is the true inspirational force. It motivates, encourages and strengthens the resolve to achieve the achievable. True love neither expects nor demands anything in lieu. It only believes...

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    I wrote this after having lost a baby. It would have been our second child (and first daughter). We named her Casey Lynn.
    A quote I love always comes to mind when thinking of her:
    "An angel in the Book of Life
    wrote down my baby's birth;
    then whispered as she closed the book -
    Too beautiful for Earth."
    Fly high on angel wings, my love! (12-4-07)

    Tell Me It's Okay

    • By Tiffany Underwood
    • Published: August 2018
    Healing After Loss

    in Mourning Poems

    Tell me it's okay
    To just want to cry.
    Tell me it's okay
    To never say goodbye.

    Tell me it's okay
    To be afraid to be strong.
    Tell me it's okay
    And that you're comin' along.

    Tell me it's okay
    And that you're staying by me.
    Tell me it's okay,
    And that this life is meant to be.

    Tell me it's okay
    To feel how I'm feeling.
    Tell me it's okay -
    The way that I am dealing.

    Tell me it's okay -
    That there is a reason for it all.
    Tell me it's okay,
    Even if I fall.

    Tell me it's okay
    To lose control today.
    Tell me it's okay.
    Just tell me it's okay.

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    I know how it feels to be lost at sea, to feel unloved, unwanted, and drowning in misery. There's no one to blame; it was my own anxiety and despair until I realised there was help out there. That help came from the Lord, my shepherd. I'm completely certain I heard Him speak to me, and suddenly everything fell into place.

    The Shepherd Slept

    Needing The Lord

    in Inspiring Poems for Kids

    There was a shepherd who fell fast asleep
    So there was no one to see to his sheep.
    The sheep were delighted, freedom at last
    Followed the leader and ran away fast.

    All was hunky dory; they had a ball,
    Walking for miles over fields, hills, moors.
    Then came the sunset and the night grew dim.
    They began to feel that freedom was grim.

    They grew hungry and went in search of food -
    Couldn't find forage and became subdued.
    It was hard to lie down and get their sleep,
    As they were pursued by some ghastly beasts.

    So tired and weary they wished to be
    Back in the flock and the hand of safety.
    They realised they needed their shepherd's care,
    For love, food and shelter that's always there.

    When the sheep had almost lost every hope,
    A familiar face came over the slopes.
    It was their shepherd and all ran with glee
    To show they were glad to see him, truly.

    They vowed they'd never run away again
    And prayed in thanks for the shepherd God sent.

    Amen!

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    I love this poem. I send blessings to you, Beryl. The words mean so much for me, because I know that we are the sheep and also the shepherd. We need but recall our Spiritual Father, "God,"...

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    I've had my share of troubles in life, though not as much as some have had. But I've discovered that happiness - or a lack of it - never really comes from my friends or foes. Although they do influence it, it's really up to me.

    The Choice Is Mine

    Happiness Poem

    in Meaningful Poems

    Life may not let me choose my lot,
    But whether I'd be happy or not...
    That is my choice.

    To leave hurtful memories behind
    Or allow them to bother my mind...
    The choice is mine.

    To fret over a mistake when it's done
    Or learn from it and move on...
    The choice is mine.

    To be bothered by all that people say
    Or ignore them and go my own way...
    The choice is mine.

    To hide my feelings, pent up, unspoken,
    Or say my mind and ease the burden...
    The choice is mine.

    To enjoy what I've been able to gain
    Or ungratefully regard it with disdain...
    The choice is mine.

    Sometimes I won't get to pick my lot,
    But whether I'll be happy or not
    Will always be my choice.

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    I really loved this poem. It is simple but lovely, the sort of thing you could hand to anyone having troubles with life. The choice is theirs to let things worry them and spoil their lives or...

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    I wrote this poem when I discovered my fiance had slept with my friend. It was a low point in my life, and I was so angry, I had to vent on paper.

    In Spite Of You

    • By Jennifer A. Boulch
    • Published: February 2016
    Poem About Betrayal And Hurt

    in Betrayal Poems

    Angry
    Mad
    Livid
    Furious
    Pissed
    At you

    Sad
    Depressed
    Heartbroken
    Morose
    Melancholy
    Because of you

    Unbreakable
    Strong
    Resilient
    Flexible
    Tough
    In spite of you

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    I wrote this poem when I was in 6th grade when I started to fall into depression. As things got worse, I kept changing the poem, and now this is what I have left. I think many people can relate to this.

    I'm Tired

    Poem About What Suffering From Depression Feels Like

    in Depression Poems by Teens

    I'm tired.
    Tired of the constancy,
    the constancy of judgment.
    Tired of hiding,
    hiding who I really am.
    Tired of trying to stay strong.

    I'm tired.
    Tired of pretending,
    pretending to be happy when all I want to do is cry.
    Tired of not being able to let go,
    let go of all the pain and emotions that consume me.
    Tired of feeling worthless.

    I'm tired.
    Tired of being put down,
    put down by the people I felt closest to.
    Tired of dreaming,
    dreaming of a life I will never have.
    Tired of not being good enough.

    I'm tired.
    Tired of remembering,
    remembering how I used to be so happy.
    Tired of the blame,
    the blame I put on myself daily.
    Tired of the anger.

    I'm tired.
    Tired of crying,
    crying in the shower so nobody can hear.
    Tired of the fear,
    the fear of being judged, hurt, and alone.
    Tired of failing.

    I'm tired.
    Tired of holding on when all I want to do is give up.
    Tired of being tired.
    Tired of being me.

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    I lived in an abusive household for the first nine years of my life. Suffering sexual assault, beatings, starvation, all at the hands of the people who were supposed to protect me. When I was...

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    Every night I dream of how the world could be a better place. I long for the simplest of changes, simple acts of kindness, love, truth, and simple whispers of hope in the night sky. When I see these dreams each night as I pray, the only words that come to my mind are, "If only..."

    If Only

    • By Petra Sheane
    • Published: February 2015
    Poem About Hope For The World

    in ABC Poems

    If Only...
    A prayer was held in our nation,
    Beauty was seen in more ways than one,
    Children who are lost could find their salvation,
    Death was slain and torture was done.

    If Only...
    Earth was awakened after years of endurance,
    Forgotten feelings were rekindled anew,
    God was man's only path and assurance,
    Hope was the foundation of the world we knew.

    If Only...
    I knew more stories than those that were told,
    Joy was a plague, and peace a disease,
    Knowledge was worth more than silver and gold,
    Love was sacred and endless as the seas.

    If Only...
    Miracles were seen more than daylight,
    Never was replaced with forever,
    Our eyes could see through the dark of the night,
    Passion lived in us more than ever.

    If Only...
    Questions were answered, and answers were questioned,
    Roses were pure and without thorns,
    Sadness received only love and affection,
    The empty knew why it was they were born.

    If Only...
    Us as a nation would join hands in song,
    Victory was a gift to the humble,
    When tears were shed, the earth felt strong,
    Exalted men would fall and crumble.

    If Only...
    You and I would last forever.

    If Only...

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    Give quality time to your loved ones. Otherwise, you will lose them gradually.
    Relationships are very beautiful, especially those always giving unconditional love.

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    One Halloween, I was inspired to write a sonnet about candy corn while I was studying Shakespeare. There is something so simple about the confection, yet it possesses complex symbolism. In case a reader does not catch it, I will explain! The sonnet as a whole explains the colors of candy corn: white, orange, and yellow. Each stanza then focuses on one color and lists examples of how that color applies to the subject of Halloween!

    Candy Corn

    • By Jan R
    • Published: December 2014
    Shakespearean Sonnet For Halloween

    in Sonnet Poems

    Against the black void, looms the lunar sphere.
    Hungry ghosts haunt, satisfied by fright.
    Oh my! The children's faces blanch in fear.
    And thus the small summit embodies white.

    Dwindle do the autumn leaves to the ground.
    From the fire, the cold meets its warm demise.
    Halloween's favorite gourd, carved and round
    And thus the middle is where orange lies.

    Farms and tractor-pulled rides, hay is handy.
    The black cat's eerie eyes gleam from its face.
    The vegetable tastes not like the candy.
    And thus concludes yellow to form the base.

    White, orange, and yellow make something sweet.
    Enjoy some candy corn, Halloween's treat!

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    A haiku describing nature for each of the twelve months of the year.

    Haiku Year

    Haiku Poem About Months Of The Year

    in Haiku

    JANUARY
    Delightful display
    Snowdrops bow their pure white heads
    To the sun's glory.

    FEBRUARY
    Fresh green buds appear
    Indicating spring will soon
    Energize us all.

    MARCH
    Lambs gambol in fields
    Frisky with the joys of life
    Bleating happily.

    APRIL
    Bluebells stand so proud
    Beneath trees so sparsely dressed
    Fresh green leaves unfold.

    MAY
    Much awaited sound
    Echoes heard amid dense trees
    Cuckoo has arrived.

    JUNE
    Parks and gardens burst
    With sounds and vibrant colours
    Perfect harmony.

    JULY
    Beaches become full
    Of families having fun
    In sand and big waves.

    AUGUST
    Ripe golden harvest
    Burning sun in azure skies
    Labours rewarded.

    SEPTEMBER
    Swallows congregate
    On telephone wires ready
    To migrate down south.

    OCTOBER
    Red and gold leaves fall,
    Crunchy as cornflakes beneath
    Feet on a crisp morn.

    NOVEMBER
    Frosty webs sparkle
    In the early morning sun
    Brightly bejeweled.

    DECEMBER
    First few flakes of snow
    Dust gardens like icing on
    A chocolate cake.

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    I love this poem sooooo much! Can't stop reading it. I am in love with the absolute perfect descriptions of each month...great job Paul.

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    I wrote this emotional poem when I started thinking about the things regarding my sister Mencia Gawanas that I took for granted. I thought that she'd always be around, so there were all these things that I thought I would always have. I thought she'd always text me, or smile at me, or call me. I thought I would have her in my life forever. Alas, God had a different plan for us. I just wish I knew that I would have her for so little a time, for she was only 20.

    If Only I Knew

    • By Sennette Gaoses
    • Published: February 2014
    Emotional Poem About Death Cutting Young Life Short

    in Sister Death Poems

    If only I knew that our time would be so brief,
    Spoiled you rotten I would have done.

    If only I knew that would be our last phone call,
    Just to listen to you speak, held on longer I would have done.

    If only I knew that would be your last text,
    Kept it in my inbox I would have done.

    If only I knew it was the last time I was seeing you,
    Called you back and hugged you tight I would have done.

    If only I knew it was the last time I would see you smile,
    Stood longer and watch you smile I would have done.

    If only I knew that I was seeing your face for the last time,
    Memorize all its features I would have done.

    If only I knew that God would take you away so soon,
    Spend all my time with you I would have done.

    There are a lot of things I would have done differently
    If only I had known.

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    May 2, 2016 I lost my little sister who was only 45. Every day brings the challenge to go forward.

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    The reason I wrote this poem was because I absolutely hate winter and love spring time. This is mostly because everything is dead in the winter- there's no life. And I'm a very sensitive person, so just the atmosphere of winter makes me sad. Another reason is because I had been through a bad experience- relationship wise- over the winter, and I feel that spring time is a clean new start. No more depressing poems and songs! :)

    Spring

    • By Camille Gotera
    • Published: December 2013
    Poem About Change Of Seasons

    in Spring Poems

    When the cold, harsh winter has given its last breath,
    When the sky above shows life instead of death,
    When the claws reaching to the frozen sky become decorated with leaves,
    When the animals -long in hiding- scurry from trees,
    We know winter has ended.

    When the frost on grass is replaced with sweet dew,
    When the fields become dotted with flowers, reminding me of you,
    When the lonely silence becomes filled with melodies,
    When you feel warm air, erasing bad memories
    We know winter has ended.

    When the hard, bare ground becomes painted with green,
    When the frost-bitten air becomes fresh and clean,
    When the coats and boots are all stored away,
    When the playgrounds become occupied again with child's play,
    We know winter has ended.

    When you hear the pleasant sound of children's laughter,
    When the air is filled with joy- long sought after,
    When the world is filled with sunlight, brighter and longer,
    When the song of Mother Nature becomes stronger,
    Spring has begun.

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    I wrote this when I woke up really early one morning and felt like the whole world was turned against me.

    Truth Untold

    in Alone Poems

    My pain and misery fall from the sky
    So hard I try to ignore it, but it still gets by.
    Surrounded with memories of what could have been,
    The hatred screams under my skin.
    Pulsing through my veins is the anger I feel.
    Wounds break open as soon as they seal.
    Darkness surrounds me with every step I take.
    I manage a smile, but do you know it's a fake?
    I laugh when people talk to me,
    But inside I'm dying, wishing they could see
    I'm as different inside as I am the same.
    Wish they could see they're not to blame.
    I know the truth, but it's locked in my heart,
    And now more than ever, it's tearing me apart.

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    I could relate perfectly to every line and the heart of the author. What astonished me is the fact that when you pour your heart into a poem, you have still not let it out. The circumstances...

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    Originally from England, Laura Barnes has lived and worked as a teacher, trainer and life coach across four continents. Laura now lives happily in Gilbert, Arizona, and is the Owner/Founder/Chief Coffee Maker at Your Potential Power, a heart-centered life coaching practice. Laura is also an online instructor at the Southwest Institute of Healing Arts in Tempe, AZ. She is currently in training for her June 2012 climb of Mt. Kilimanjaro for charity. Laura would love to hear from you.

    I Am Not A Victim Of Breast Cancer

    • By Laura Barnes
    • Published: August 2013
    Poem Of Overcoming

    in Inspirational Poems

    I am not a victim of breast cancer. I am experiencing breast cancer.
    I am not dying. I am living.
    I am not curing. I am healing and restoring.
    I am not fearing. I am loving and trusting.
    I am not fighting. I am ceasing all hostility and conflict.
    I am not weak or diminished. I am strong and whole and complete.
    I am not coping or hoping. I am giving and receiving, creating and conceiving.
    I am not crying. I am laughing until the tears run down my leg.
    My body is not my enemy. My body is my loving friend, my gentle guide.
    My life story is not history. My life story is legendary.
    I am not powerless. I am powerful beyond measure.
    I am not a drop in the ocean. I am the ocean in a drop.
    I am not scattered. I am aligned.
    I am not being destroyed. I am building my sacred stature.
    I am not trapped or caged. I am as free as a feathery fledgling.
    My body is not a muddy puddle of despair. My body is a hallowed temple of spirit.
    I am not filled with shadows. I am filled with illuminating light.
    I am not a passive puppet. I am an active advocate and enthusiastic participant.
    I am not tired and bested. I am tied and invested.
    I am not without a voice or meaning or purpose. I am an angelic messenger.
    I am not discarded. I am needed.
    I am not descending, dragging or faltering. I am consistently inspiring and uplifting.
    I am not dwelling in the reflections of the past or the projections of the future. I am joyfully dancing naked in the unfolding mystery of the present moment.
    I am not alone or abandoned. I am infinitely connected by the soft, silky vibrational threads of love.
    I will not forget. I will remember.
    I will not burn out. I will sparkle forever.

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    I am a two time cancer survivor. I had a wonderful doctor. The first time I had a lumpectomy and radiation. The second time was five years later and I had a mastectomy with radiation and...

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    Hi I'm Lesley, a retired teacher enjoying my three grandchildren. I started writing poetry seriously when my eleven year old daughter, Heather died suddenly in the Spring of 1995. I was able to express my feelings through verse and this helped me come to terms with the massive hole that she left in my world. So a lot of my poems mix sadness and happiness. Nature and friendship are also important to me, the beauty around us and within us.

    Tapestry

    • By Lesley Elaine Greenwood
    • Published: March 2013
    Painting A Picture With Words

    in Beauty of Nature Poems

    If I could take a brush and paint the mountains and the moors,
    I would splash the hillsides yellow and cover them in gorse.
    I'd take the finest needle and the darkest thread of green
    And sew a line of bracken along the landscape. In-between

    I'd lay a purple carpet of wild heather in the dells
    And fringe the edge of all the woods with their pretty lilac bells.
    I'd merge the bracken with the heather, mix their colours like the sea,
    A green and purple ocean on my own rich tapestry.

    Then I'd take a ball of soft, white wool and stitch a mass of daisy chains
    Around the lush green meadows and up the sides of winding lanes.
    I would stencil on the marshes, just like pure white china cups,
    Some fragile water lilies and by the ponds, sweet buttercups.

    I'd mix orange, reds and yellows planting poppies wild and free
    Onto nature's coloured canvas, my own rich tapestry.

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    I was in the Air Force at the time, stationed at Langley AF Base. A large group of us were sent to Blacksmith, VA, an Army base, to stay clear of the impending hurricane. I am originally from the mid-west and have never been in that kind of weather, so I was a nervous wreck the whole time. During the storm that night, while others slept or watched movies on portable DVD players, I was so scared and the only thing that brought me comfort was to write about it. It took me 1 week to finish it.

    Hurricane Isabella

    • By Amy Aird
    • Published: March 2013

    in Earth Poems

    I can't sleep tonight, I can still hear her name.
    She came with warning but could not be tamed.
    We packed our things and stored them tight,
    And headed for shelter anticipating this night.
    "You will be out of harm's way," the Colonel told us. "Free from the fight."

    But she followed us and now we are in her way.
    All night she screams, "My name is Isabella and I've come to play!"
    Her winds rattle the windows and shake our nerves.
    The rain seeps through the cracks of the barracks we serve.
    She keeps herself busy and at a steady pace.
    Sounds like a freight train winning the race.

    All through the night and into the early morning,
    She kicked up her heals, laughing and roaring!
    When the daylight came and the blue skies were calm,
    We could only imagine the damage she had done.
    It was far worse than what we had thought.

    Age old trees that once reached to the sky,
    Scattered the ground like tombstones, no longer alive.
    Uprooted, twisted and mangled,
    They crashed through houses and left power lines tangled.

    Piles of debris littered the streets,
    Trapping the flood waters up to our knees.
    It covered the ground throughout this town.
    Bits of valuables were later found.

    But valuables can be replaced and homes can be repaired.
    No one was hurt that day in the shelter we shared.
    It could have been worse; we were luckier than some.
    Some lost loved ones in the destruction she had done.

    We go about our lives now, picking up the pieces,
    Trying to make sense of the madness and all that it seizes.
    Most are without power, their food supply goes sour,
    As the day turns to blackness with each passing hour.

    But throughout all the chaos brought strangers together.
    Despite their own frustration came a need to take care of each other.
    By helping one another with necessities we lack,
    We see in each other one purpose, one path.

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    Describes the millions of girls all over the world who wish their crush knew what they felt about them.

    I Wish He Knew

    • By Maddie
    • Published: February 2013
    Secret Crush Poem

    in Confused about Love Poems

    I wish he could know
    What I'm too scared to show.
    I wish he could see
    Just how much he means to me.
    I wish he could tell
    That I know him so well.
    I wish he could feel
    My love that is real.
    I wish he could hear
    The things that I fear
    About him never knowing
    That my love for him is growing.

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    Dear Ana,
    My heart goes out to you. I'm considering myself a very romantic person, and with my life's (quite substantial) experience I can safely tell you this: based on what you wrote...

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    I met a guy this year. First I thought he would just be another one of my guy friends. Then I started talking to him more and we started hanging out a lot, and somewhere in between all of that I started to fall for him.

    Every Day My Love For You Grows

    in Falling in Love Poems

    Every day that passes us by
    all I could think of is this one guy.
    I never thought I'd feel this way,
    but the feeling I have I want to stay.

    Every day I want to tell you how I feel,
    but I'm afraid of the answer you may reveal.
    I'm terrified of your rejection
    'cause, boy, all I want is your acceptance.

    Every day my love for you seems to grow.
    I just don't know how to let you know.
    But one thing that will last a while
    is that my love for you will never be in denial.

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    There is this lady I first loved in my life. I don't know how to let her know I wish she could be the mother of my unborn children. I managed to tell her about a month ago; she said we should...

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    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was inspired to write this poem in 1863 during the Civil War when his son went off to fight for the Union against his wishes. While this song is about Christmas time, there is an underlying tone of the war (The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail). This poem is the basis for the Christmas carol "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day."

    Christmas Bells

    in Famous Holiday Poems

    I heard the bells on Christmas Day
    Their old, familiar carols play,
    And wild and sweet
    The words repeat
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    And thought how, as the day had come,
    The belfries of all Christendom
    Had rolled along
    The unbroken song
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    Till ringing, singing on its way,
    The world revolved from night to day,
    A voice, a chime,
    A chant sublime
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    Then from each black, accursed mouth
    The cannon thundered in the South,
    And with the sound
    The carols drowned
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    It was as if an earthquake rent
    The hearth-stones of a continent,
    And made forlorn
    The households born
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    And in despair I bowed my head;
    "There is no peace on earth," I said;
    For hate is strong,
    And mocks the song
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

    Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
    "God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
    The Wrong shall fail,
    The Right prevail,
    With peace on earth, good-will to men."

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    It's wonderful. I love how he added that he believes in God. Best poem ever.

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