Meaningful Poems - Page 5

  1. 81. The Masks

    • By Nancy Crosskill Longanbach
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems June 2015

    My husband passed away just before his 44th birthday. After the dust settled, bills paid and left with very little, I found it hard to put up a "false front." My son has a way with words and gave me some good advice. He had just turned 12.

    Poem About Hiding Your Pain

    I have so many different masks.
    I wear them one by one.
    I see them in a pile
    When my day is finally done.

    There's one for when I'm happy
    And one I wear when sad.
    There's one for when I'm pensive
    For all that I have had.

    I try not to hide behind them,
    To just let my sunshine glow.
    I've learned from you, "Just be yourself,
    And no one else will know."

    "You had so much and lost it,
    And you tried to get it back.
    It may take some time! Be patient!
    It's just confidence you lack!"

    If I stay true and honest,
    There will be no need to wear
    These masks I see at bedtime
    That are lying on my chair.

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  2. 82. My Steps

    • By Malusi Nduilu
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems February 2010

    This is a thank you to my parents. A journey through tears and triumph at self discovery, and realizing I was more than I actually gave myself credit for.

    Since all my steps are audience of my past,
    a past damasked by relevant joys, pain, growth
    and overloaded with treasure and souvenirs.
    Every new step arrives out of all steps taken,
    my face presents my history,
    my brown eyes are jewels I cannot pawn.
    I am the map of campaign,
    each ancestor has his flag,
    marking an advance or a retreat.
    as I write I look at my five fingers,
    each an individual testament,
    a story, a loss and a gain, a lesson,
    I turn to my palm and trace unequal lines,
    of opportunities lost and gained,
    of tears of pain and joy,
    equal inequality that ends in tenderness,
    the tenderness of a mothers footprints of undying love,
    the warm impress of a fathers strength even in my first steps.
    Every step brings new light,
    the taste of individual beauty born of a collective effort,
    every day my soul claps its hands, and sings,
    consumed by the joy of a rich heritage
    and all todays are better then all yesterdays.

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  3. 83. Awake Or Asleep

    • By Neha
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems December 2011

    I assume life to be a journey of finding the true soul in oneself.... every day and night the thought that my feelings are in accordance to my action makes me feel wholesome. The process how I learnt about myself is well described by this poem.

    Everyday I think of something beautiful and deep,
    Before I go to sleep.
    It brings a smile
    And gives the strength to go another mile.
    What does a day hold;
    If it's not something sweet and bold?
    A hello to a new stranger
    A hug to the old friend
    A kiss to the beloved,
    And a fight with someone close and at hand.
    A walk of faults and regrets
    Giving hope to make things best.
    Thoughts that may be a little sad
    Reminds of all things that make me happy.
    Slowly in the years I realized
    Nobody is born intelligent and wise.
    Risk taken can be calculated
    And truths can be manipulated.
    It's not when I get up from sleep
    It's how much I'm awake when I'm going to sleep.

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  4. 84. Nights Of Dream

    Everything in this world can be seen as you wish to. Good or bad, simple or complicated easy or difficult. How you look at them is all up to you. Never let life's hardships disturb you.

    Perspective Is Up To You

    Heart when shattered
    heaved to heal
    as greatness unveils
    the soul yet divine
    Hope being whispered
    by the tunes distant
    the pain as disowned
    melts river into the flow

    night as brings the mirth
    tender flow passing the stream
    with glorious blunder.
    as it is not one or two,
    but dissipated all
    in the nights of dream

    Sadness comes to end
    as the mind when revels
    happiness when conquered
    hate being exiled
    Love sprouts the rhythm
    sadness shrinking
    hope when come again.

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  5. 85. Life Is....

    • By Cassidy Blythe
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems November 2009

    I wrote a true story of what happened to me. Just love your self and people will love you.

    life is confusing
    for all of us
    no matter how small or how big
    we all have rough times.

    Life is expressed.
    expressed in different ways
    for all people
    that give us different emotions.

    life is stupid
    cause when things get tough
    we blame and take out anger
    on the ones we love most.

    Most of all life makes you regret.
    you make the people who love you most
    hate you.

    But life is also amazing.
    you meet life long friends and enemies who become friends.
    don't be hate'n on your self
    cause the more you hate your self
    the more people hate you.

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  6. 86. In Memory Of Christian

    • By Sharon L. Heiston
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems July 2007

    Do you have the power to brighten another person's day? What are you waiting for?

    Poem About Living Life To The Fullest

    There are only a handful of people
    That you'll meet in life
    That truly touch your heart
    And make you glad you're alive
    They've got a special presence
    When they walk into a room
    It's almost like they were sent there
    To take away your gloom
    They can make you happy when
    Everything seems sad
    So happy it almost makes you mad
    They forget about their problems
    And brighten up your day
    And you don't realize it until
    They've gone away
    They teach us to enjoy everyday
    Live life to the fullest
    Laugh, love and play
    Because there's no guarantee
    You'll get another day
    So if you have a chance to make someone smile don't pass up the opportunity to make them happy for awhile
    It may be their last chance and
    You'll remember them and their smile.

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    Latest Shared Story

    Our son, Christian, passed away suddenly at the age of 26 on October 20th, 2006. I came across this poem; it reminded me so much of our Christian. He had that type of personality and the...

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  7. 87. Drop The Mirror

    • By Siobhan Bligh
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems April 2009

    After a pensive afternoon lost in thought, I realized I desired something that was unattainable. This poem represents my longing to change that person and make them more committed to love and less self-centered.


    A silhouette upon the moonlight night
    Spawned internally by her mind
    A glance in a mirror, a shock of fright
    Thoughts she daren't leave behind
    Beside herself with grief and pity
    Eviscerated of her veracity

    Beneath salty watermarks of ecstasy
    Lurks her boiling blood-lust
    Wrapped in her mirror, dramatically
    Containing all within her bust,
    Pale faces greet her own reflection
    Slowly rotting, breeding tradition

    My own inward conscious mind
    Seeks her happiness without restriction
    Meticulously I seek to find
    Emancipation from her own condition
    For I myself, amidst solitude
    Reflect in that very mirror, a harrowing view

    Upon the waking eye, ever in pursuit
    I reach to smash and break
    This mirror concealing her fortitude
    To release her-to awake
    So drop the mirror, turn and face
    Stay a while within my warm embrace

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  8. 88. Celebrity

    Vibrant lights
    Roused clamor
    Flickers of light
    Extreme glamour.

    Papers after paper
    Tired, sore arms
    Just keep on smiling
    Continue to charm.

    Bags under eyes
    Another long day
    To sit and pretend
    Waste your life away.

    Cameras are everywhere
    You cannot hide
    All the rumors that subside
    Hurts deep inside.

    Unseen by the public
    Of internal pains
    Unnoticeable feint act
    The facade remains.

    Glamour so evident
    Media preordained
    Deem forlorn
    Everything unexplained.

    Accomplishments surpassed
    Yet feeling incomplete
    Life is such
    Full of Deceit

    Oblivious out in the open
    Hide your pain
    Just keep on smiling.
    Cover up the Feign.

    Nobody knows
    What it's like to be them.
    Many unknown facts
    All condemned.

    Media fakes
    Public makes buzz
    Having fame makes life
    Nothing like it was.

    The industry may seem glamorous
    But it is far from glam
    Every action you make
    May be looked upon as a scam.

    Nobody knows the truth
    Behind the screen
    From the public view's eye
    Much is unseen.

    All we see is
    The orthodox of show biz.

    Vibrant lights
    Roused clamor
    Flickers of light
    Extreme glamour.

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    Latest Shared Story

    I think this poem is fantastic because it really changes my perspective on the world around us. I highly recommend it.

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  9. 89. Brotherhood

    • By Gerry Anderson
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems August 2008

    I was inspired to write this poem because of all the heartache that addiction causes.
    I read another poem of a girl who's brother ended up in the hospital with a body crushed and a mind and spirit robbed from addiction. It touched my heart and lead me to write this for all those near and dear to the lost in spirit.

    I walk slowly down the streets paved with sadness,
    Addicts begging for favors and pleading for change,
    Desperation plagues their dark hollow eyes
    And their hearts, they are empty and I
    I silently cry.

    I see in parks the children that are playing,
    Smiles and joy lights up their faces with glee,
    Laughter fills the air with song and delight,
    Their hearts are full with love and trust in their eyes,
    I silently cry.

    I cry for the lost, the rich and the poor,
    Whose hearts have grown bitter and cold,
    For what could have been in their life is now gone,
    And left is the empty high of a drug that's unknown,
    I silently cry.

    I pray for the ones who have given up hope,
    Hope for a future of love, faith and joy,
    I pray for the lonely the sick and the lost,
    That someone would take the time to reach out,
    I silently hope,

    I hope for a future, a better tomorrow,
    For people who need compassion and care,
    I hope that bitterness melts with the touch of a heartbeat,
    I hope for the love that we can give one another,
    For are we not really everyone's brother?

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    Latest Shared Story

    When my father died, I though my world had died too. I no longer cared about anything, things I once cared about had no meaning, no worth. Unfortunately, this included not only material...

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  10. 90. Storm Is Life

    • By Thandeka
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems December 2008

    When your back's against the wall- it does not mean it wont turn the other way. More than anything look forward to happy endings and refuse to be negative!

    When it's to rain,
    clouds gather up in the sky.
    So dark, mild, puffy and scary.
    No place is laid out for better safety.
    Here, is where all shall stay to witness thunder
    and its blossoming lightning.
    Creatures go about with no assurance of survival.
    But nature, embraces our powerless selves
    to relax knowing that all is well.
    Like trouble, when it affiliates our lives
    without a sign of caution.
    Brings nothing but turmoil to these shaken souls-
    Helplessly gazing ahead for all confusion to pass on.
    Earth is never fun when one is sulking,
    cause then death prevails.

    Rain on its own sanctifies.
    Same clouds that cover you with fear,
    bring down water of life.
    Darkness loiters around for a while;
    and blinds your focus so you see not when it turns.
    When it turns, so far away that
    your vision is blared
    with any troubles ever existed.
    It's for this truth that,
    rejoice when clouds gather.
    For sadness sent down are disguises
    filled with blessings to come fourth!
    As the sun shines after this huge storm.

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  11. 91. Life Is But A Performance

    • By Kimonako
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems February 2014

    This poem was inspired through a little path of self discovery that I had recently. It got me thinking of how people wear this mask around all the time, of how people go along with the show, and how some people believe the "performance" all together.

    Poem About The Routine Of Life

    An actor up above on a stage,
    Reciting lines from a script that he has memorized 100 times over.
    He goes along with the show,
    Executing his parts perfectly,
    Knowing just when to jump in.
    The crowd goes wild.
    They applaud,
    They scream,
    They loved absolutely everything about his performance.
    And you would too if this poem wasn't about you.
    Yes, I'm taking about you.
    The one reading this poem right now.
    You are the actor,
    The one who wears the mask.
    Your script is the lines that you ingrain in your mind.
    You know, phrases like "I'm fine."
    You put on a performance on this stage called life.
    And your fellow cast mates?
    Well, they're your friends, family, co-workers, and acquaintances.
    Face it, life is like a performance,
    And you are just one of the actors.
    Play your part well.

    Poem About The Routine Of Life, Life Is But A Performance

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    Latest Shared Story

    They say life is like a mirror, when it is broken we can't go back and arrange it into pieces.

    But I say that life is not a mirror. Because when we are ill and broken we can go back to God...

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  12. 92. Poplar

    • By Clare Lewtas
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems April 2008

    Looking to the poplar tree for meaning in life

    Comparing Meaning Of Life To A Tree

    Alert and splayed branches accept and reinforce
    life's rhythms, existence, and love.

    Now in January, I want to write the poplar's pulse,
    but mine quickens as I come close to mediating its presence.

    To share its essence, I transcend the desire
    to understand and like the wood.
    Pigeons sit content amongst the branches that support me.

    Then I watch the squirrels chase,
    their fearless leaps of faith
    one hundred or more feet from the ground
    and feel the excitement of a fool testing the margins.

    Now the crow, whose knowing has gone beyond the need to share
    takes me to ambiguity and leaves me
    as it flies beyond to bottomless secrets,
    flashing a hint in its eye,
    on its wing it disappears.

    The arms of this tree, vivacious with variation and complexity,
    are in perfect paradox with its innate design to be.

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