Metaphor Poems - Page 2

  1. 21. Seeds Of Growth

    • By David Rivera
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems February 2006

    A poem about the cycle of life. We are all intertwined and help others grow.

    A Poem About The Cycle Of Life

    Water the seed, and a plant will grow.
    Feed the plant, and a tree will grow.
    Give a tree room, and it will bloom.
    A seed to a plant,
    A plant to a tree,
    A boy to a man,
    A man to a father.
    Care for the boy, and the man will grow.
    Teach the man, and a father will grow.
    I see my boys.
    I see my joy.
    Care for my boys, and I, the man, will grow.
    Teach me, my boys, and your father will grow.
    You can't have the tree without the plant.
    You can't have the plant without the seed.
    I can't be a father without being a man.
    I, the man, can't be a father without my boys.
    The cycle of life.
    The man, the boys, the father.
    The seed, the plant, the tree.

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    I had an idea of what being a father was. But, as I had my own children, becoming a father made me reflect and change completely my relationship with my parents and what I conceived as being...

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  2. 22. An Ocean Of Memories

    • By Kimberly L. Briones
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems February 2006

    This poem uses metaphors to create a strong sense of structure, which helps it flow. Each stanza compares a family member to a object in the ocean.

    My family is the ocean around us.

    My father is the hurricane,
    knocking anything and everybody out of his path.

    My mother is the sunshine after the storm (my father),
    clearing and calming everything else.

    My oldest brother is the sand,
    kicked and blown away by my dad,
    but warmed with care by my mom.

    My oldest sister is the breeze in the wind,
    cool, quiet, and there when you need her.

    My other two brothers are the stingrays,
    dangerous,
    but also willing to fight anyone who comes along.

    And I,
    I am an old ship at the bottom of the sea,
    lost, abandoned, but full of memories.

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    That's the same for me! Except, my younger sister is the storm haha.

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  3. 23. Rising From The Sink

    • By Beth Chorley
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems February 2014

    For 3 years, I have suffered through a mind and body destroying battle with bulimia. The poem exhibits my feelings of desperation and loneliness that struggling through an eating disorder can bring upon a person. I express the lack of restraint I have felt, up until my eventual rise from the depths of self-hatred to my elated 17-year-old self. Sometimes we need to lose the battles in order to win the war.

    Poem About Battle With Bulimia

    Crippling waves of anxiety smash against the sides of the boat.
    Broken pieces of the sailing structure fall away into the boundless space of the sea.
    The current is rough, and I realize I have chosen a destructive path.
    I look around at my deck. It is empty and I stand aboard unaided,
    which means I must face the tide alone.

    Trying to steer the ship into prosperous waters proves to be a task, and
    the fatal path has begun to take a grasp on my mind.
    My body trembles with unease, and the great force of the waves throw me across the deck.
    There is no one to help me and no one to save me.
    Do people want to see me fail, or they just not care?
    There must be a reason for my loneliness aboard the vessel.

    Infected with self-hatred and no idea how to steer my ship away,
    I see no choice but to expel my sustenance.
    Drooping my head overboard, I look down at the desolateness of the ocean.
    The ship has left my control, and it begins to lose restraint.
    At this point, I do not care; I do not know how to lead it into calm waters.
    I close my eyes and begin to purge
    over the side of the boat, and the vessel speeds into the storm.

    With one hand, I grip the sides of the boat; I do not want to fall in.
    Although it is unsteady, my ship feels safer than the openness of the vast ocean.
    With the other, I forcefully retch to abolish the goodness from myself,
    hopeful that it will teach me to navigate my boat into buoyant tides.

    I should be animated with panic, yet this is nothing new.
    The supreme waves begin to rip apart the boat, and I am knocked from my feet,
    left cast down on the floor.
    I know I want to get up and prevent the destruction, but my stomach throbs,
    my watered eyes are blurred, and my mind tells me to stay knocked down.
    Disturbingly, the reckless waves and frantic storms have become my reality.
    And then I feel the ship begin to descend into the great mouth of the sea.

    As the water fills up the deck and the waves smash down onto my person,
    I rise from the hard, wooden ground of the deck.
    I sprint down the sinking ship, with the edge of the boat in my sight.
    And I fall many times along the way.
    However, once again I rise with the open water in sight.
    Taking a leap of faith, I dive into the sea.

    The fresh water feels beautiful on my damaged skin.
    As I open my eyes in the ocean, I see no wreckage or sign of the destruction of my boat.
    Swimming up the surface, I feel the beaming sun on my body, and I enjoy the warmth and comfort it gives me.
    I turn onto my back among the calm waves and shut my eyes,
    but I can still see the bright sun above me in the sky.

    I have cracked, but I will not be broken.
    I do not fear falling because I do not fear living.
    The deeper I sink, the higher I rise.

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  4. 24. Through Rain, Through Shine

    • By Amy Cao
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems June 2019

    Although the love of a father may not always be obvious, it is always there behind you, watching over you as you grow. This concrete poem or shape poem is dedicated to my father who isn't here by my side every day, but he gives me unconditional support all the time. Whenever I need him, he always there, ready to hear out my problems.
    Dear dad, Happy Father's Day!

    Concrete Poem A Metaphor For Supportive Dad

    A
    Grand oak
    A majestic figure
    Always standing straight
    Shielding the children from heat
    Watching baby squirrels as they play
    Giving bugs and mushrooms a home to live
    Smiling as generations of friends lean by its side
    An umbrella for the park bunnies when storms come
    Even if the sun does not rise tomorrow, it will be there, just like
    F
    A
    T
    H
    E
    R

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  5. 25. My Boat

    I think sometimes in love, there's somebody who gives far more than their partner does. This poem is about those who aren't appreciated for their devotion.

    Metaphor Poem For Unappreciated Love

    You were my boat, sleek by design.
    I was your jetty, one of a kind.
    We were deeply in love and made for each other,
    And I promised I'd never harbour another.
    We endured many storms, some big, and some small,
    And I stood firm for you through them all.
    And no matter how fierce those winter winds blew,
    I'd withstand the force and keep hold of you.
    Your delicate nudge when the weather was fine,
    Your smooth polished body, pressing up against mine.
    I was the happiest jetty in all of the sea,
    And I couldn't believe that you'd chosen me,
    But over the years I watched our rope fray,
    And I could see you were slowly slipping away.
    The knots that we'd fastened were no longer tight,
    But I tried to hold on with all of my might
    I couldn't survive without you by my side.
    I never gave up, oh how I tried.
    Then came an angry, tempestuous storm,
    And the minute it passed, you were suddenly gone.
    That day you left me was painfully bleak.
    I stood there, heartbroken and structurally weak.
    I had braved the conditions for so many years.
    Now my timber was heavy, sodden with tears,
    My pylons gave way, the wood didn't float,
    And slowly I drowned still in love with my boat.

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  6. 26. Autumn Memories

    • By ANANJO
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems November 2016

    Out walking on a blustery autumn day, I saw a rose shedding its petals. It reminded me of tears falling and made me think about dreams and hopes fading when a relationship ends.

    Things Coming To An End

    The rose weeps a tear
    For the close of the year.
    Leaves whisper the turn
    While bonfires burn
    Their memories of kinder times.
    And swallows yearn for warmer climes.

    Spring hopes are flayed
    As bitter winds lash
    False memories.
    Promises made
    Blacken to ash.

    They shiver and weep,
    Fearing winter's long sleep.

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  7. 27. Vibrant Colors

    • By Paul T. East
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems July 2016

    My name is Paul, and the one woman I loved judged my looks rather than my heart.

    Don't Judge Me

    Don't judge my cover; it's not mine.
    I was given this to wear for the duration of my time.
    Over time it has become creased, ripped, and worn,
    A once perfect canvas the day I was born.

    Even the corners are rounded and jaded.
    The vibrant colors that once were have now faded.
    Deep inside there are pages missing.
    I wish that one day you would sit and listen.

    Turn these pages slowly and rewind time,
    For it's down to you to make up your mind.
    Gently close me; be careful of my cover.
    Then place me back on the shelf for someone new to discover...

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  8. 28. Snow Globe Sea

    I REALLY liked writing this one. Usually my other poems are dark and about cutting, but this ones more about looking at life from the outside and how its better somewhere safe instead of the horrid things about life...hmm..maybe it IS a little dark...

    Sailing on a plastic boat
    in a snow globe sea
    Look out into reality
    Oh what there might be
    Pass the glass and plastic,
    Hang a left on happiness.
    Turn onto misery lane,
    Pass the shop of wind blown kisses.
    I'd rather stay in my plastic boat.
    Where nothing is real or fake.
    But that doesn't matter anyway.
    Nothing here is at stake.
    Its quiet and peaceful
    As the real world screams
    Its unharmed and strong
    as the real world bleeds.
    I'd rather be in my plastic boat.
    On my snow globe sea.
    Where murder is an unknown word.
    And pain is but a theory.
    Heartbreak isn't comprehended
    Nor is it in reach.
    And everyday is based on
    Pure simplicity.
    So here out on my plastic boat,
    I can watch real life unfold.
    Shielded by my glass coating
    I will stay unharmed.
    From the things life can cause.
    From what it can do to a perfectly good heart.
    It can shred it and hurt it.
    Until its pieces, torn apart.
    But my little too-blue sea
    Only knows of love.
    And my little plastic boat
    Only that he's above.
    But they get along and do not fight.
    Or lie or yell out of hatred or spite.
    These words are nothings to them, for they are at peace.
    So here I stay on my Snow globe sea.

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    This poem made me think about how real life is - how everything that is happening is hurting people and breaking people and there is no safe place.

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  9. 29. The Fields Of Happiness

    • By Courtney
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems August 2009

    Everyone wonders what life really does have to offer and wonders what the meaning of "The Perfect Life" is. The truth is there isn't one.

    Garden As A Metaphor To Happiness Poem

    People say it is a field,
    A lovely field of happiness.
    With flowers spread,
    Throughout this field.
    Skies,
    So clear and blue.
    The sun,
    Shining ever so brightly.
    Birds chirping as if it was
    The first of spring.
    Rabbits hopping around
    As if they could go on
    For forever and eternity.
    As the creatures enjoy,
    Enjoy this wonderful place,
    For it makes everything
    Joyful, exciting, and happy.
    A dark cloud has come,
    Taken up the rays of sunlight.
    With one cloud,
    Brings many clouds.
    The flowers,
    Have now died
    And weeds,
    Have taken their place.
    The skies
    Are no longer clear and blue.
    The sun
    No longer shines with the rays,
    The rays from the heavens above,
    Instead it rains,
    Rains as if it were meant to do so.
    Birds no longer chirp as if it was
    The first of spring.
    Rabbits don't feel the need to hop,
    For they won't go on,
    For forever and eternity.
    People say it's like a field,
    A lovely field of happiness.
    They don't understand,
    For every field of flowers,
    There is a single weed,
    That one weed eventually spreads,
    And takes over the flowers
    Replacing them as if,
    They have never existed.
    For every time,
    It is sunny and blue,
    There will always be
    That one small, dark cloud,
    Hovering right near by.
    There is no such
    Thing as a lovely field of happiness,
    Every field has its flaw.
    It is a field everyone lives in,
    Some point in life.
    Once you are in this field,
    There is no way of escaping,
    There is no way in making it perfect,
    For there will always be that one,
    That one weed or cloud,
    Standing in your way,
    Of perfection and happiness

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  10. 30. Sun And The Moon

    • By Sierra S.
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems June 2017

    I was home alone thinking about the sunset I saw at the beach and was inspired to write this.

    Love Knows No Distance

    Oh, what a sweet love story, the sun and the moon.
    The sun lights up the earth, searching for her love,
    Only to recede into the soft ocean tides.
    Just as her love, the moon, does the same shortly after she's gone,
    Drawn by her light.
    He shines small beacons up in the night,
    That the sun sees and races to dawn,
    Only to see that her love is gone.
    Oh, what a sweet love story, the sun and the moon.

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  11. 31. The Tree

    • By Paul T. McMahon
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems June 2018

    I work as a paramedic and like to be inspired by depth and meaning. More focus in society ought to occur around the importance of being creative and the unique gift of oneself that each of us has to offer. I wrote this poem about 17 years ago.

    Metaphor For The Cycle Of Life

    Once a tree spoke to me in words of color and grace.
    It said to exist it had to persist in its purpose to have its place.
    In hues of green it said it had seen many a year and season
    With interesting features like other creatures, which added branches of reason.
    Diversity flourishing, nature nourishing participants on life's stage.
    Constantly changing and rearranging turns the evolutionary page.
    Death and birth for mother earth, two sides of the same coin.
    Are lessons learned when the tree is burned? In front of the hearth they join
    To warm their feet in its radiant heat it protects and it shelters,
    And mother earth's womb feeds its seeds to once again shade when summer swelters.

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  12. 32. The Calm Before A Storm

    • By Shana
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems May 2015

    This poem is about how I feel toward someone, not knowing if he meant the things he said and did or if it was all just an act. I still don't know, but it was worth it. I hope this poem shows how I felt...still feel for him.

    Poem Comparing Love To A Thunderstorm

    I hate the way you remind me of a thunderstorm
    The way the violent wind, rain, and lightning shake me...
    You shake me
    And yet I find myself unable to resist stepping out into the madness
    Not having the power to run for cover
    The lightning that flashes across the sky, lighting up the clouds
    That's your smile, your laugh
    The way it lights me up
    The thunder that calms me
    Draws me to you
    The way everything about you is dark
    The same peaceful dark in the fury of a storm
    The warm rain that pours from the sky
    Washes over me like a kiss
    A kiss that shuts my body down
    Unable to think, breathe, feel anything but you
    A kiss that shuts me down like a power outage
    The thousands of rain drops soak me
    They remind me of a thousand thoughts that drown me
    I think I could fall for you, maybe I could love you, I know I adore you...
    When the lights come back on in the morning,
    I look for you...
    I find traces of you, here and there...
    But in the moment
    I think you tricked me into believing that you were something that would last
    I miss the serenity that you gave me
    The calm in your arms
    It was so much like the calm before a storm
    Oh, and did it ever storm.

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  13. 33. The Pencil Case

    I was inspired to do this poem by a friend who told me to write about the first thing I saw and mould it into an issue. Thanks!!!

    Inspired By A Friend

    The eraser erased my bad habits
    While the pencil drew in new ones
    The glue stick glued on a whole new face
    As the scissors cut away my background and past
    The ball point pen then made the changes permanent
    While the colored pencils shaded in my body
    The calculator changed my way of thinking
    As the sharpener grazed over my rough edges
    Finally, the ruler
    I had to measure up to your standards
    Now me and you
    We walk, talk and think the same
    Two moving as one
    I don't even know who I've become
    What I was before
    You've changed me more than you'll ever know

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    Dear Beatrice, the friendship you have with the person who inspired you to write this poem should really be treasured because this poem is one of a kind for me. You know what? It really...

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  14. 34. Absent

    I wrote this poem because I feel extremely alone now that I have both of my parents gone.
    I feel alone and
    I do miss them.

    In a sea of salt waters
    Endevours are enclosed
    As insobriety washes away
    My lifes secrets are exposed
    Loss all around me is fully evident
    As my soul begins to scream
    Not knowing where I am headed
    But definitely knowing where I have been
    Hurt keeps rolling in not knowing what is in store
    Bandaging the broken pieces
    That slowly washes upon shore
    The water no longer blue
    But instead a sea of red
    Thinking about forever closing my eyes
    And floating away on this drifting bed
    To remember would be to much
    To surrender leaves me no possibilities
    Because the water is my life that is slowly drowning me

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  15. 35. The Rose

    • By Billie Jo
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems May 2013

    I wrote this poem as a free verse assignment a while ago. I believe it inspires you to never give up on who you are because you're beautiful as yourself.

    You're Beautiful As Yourself

    The sun went away
    The sky went black
    Up came the wind
    I fell on my back

    It started to rain
    I began to sink
    Then I lifted my head
    And took a drink

    I perked myself up
    And said "please don't cry"
    And wiped off my petals
    Until they were dry

    The clouds soon parted
    And out came the sun
    The beauty in me
    Has only begun.

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  16. 36. The Well

    • By Laurie A. Eisenhart
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems February 2006

    Somebody has let her down. It is up to the reader to figure it out. Everything is in metaphor.

    You were to be my well
    But there was little to drink
    How am I to slake my thirst
    When you taunt me like an oasis

    You were to be my armor
    Yet I still was hurt by our own
    How am I to survive
    When your shield is translucent

    You were to be my walls
    But you were made of straw
    How am I to reside
    When you shelter is temporary

    You were to be my farmer
    But you eclipsed my sun
    How am I to thrive in obscurity
    When your fertilizer burns my soul

    You were to be my concrete
    But you were made of mud
    How am I to stand on my own
    When it is support which you lack

    You were to be my bones
    But there was no enrichment within
    How am I to walk with vitality
    When it is dust you became

    You were to be my well
    But there is little to drink
    I will never be able to slake my thirst
    For you will always be an oasis

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  17. 37. The Wind And I

    • By Sam
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems October 2014

    This poem describes the changing moods of the wind, how it can speak so softly like a breeze one moment and then how it screeches violently like a hurricane. The wind is like us humans because we have conflicts, we have stories to tell, and we have moods that sometimes change our lives completely.

    She spoke to me
    like she was my mother
    soft, ever so gentle
    when she met me at midnight
    the moonlight shone
    like never before, we bonded
    and shared our deepest secrets
    but then all of a sudden
    things changed between us
    she took it all away
    with one blow, roaring violently
    she took my past, my present
    and made uncertain my future
    never again will I trust her
    the wind that shattered the windows of my dreams

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  18. 38. Midnights Calling

    • By Molly Nicole Russell
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems December 2013

    When I go out at night you can see how everybody is, not the neat school version where you can easily blend in or get lost in the swarm of children.

    This poem is about how the night shows the truth, the golden suns gone and it takes it rays with it, you see what people are really like. You get to know them better and you connect on a level that you can only explain in certain words.

    You never forget nights like that.

    Poem About Seeing What People Are Really Like

    First moons light
    Darkness is bright.

    Silvers reflects pure
    Gold is no more.

    Diamonds will shine
    This night will be mine.

    The memories it holds
    Be forever untold.

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  19. 39. A Butterfly

    • By Silvia Burley
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems July 2015

    The poem "A Butterfly" is dedicated to my Grandmother Eva, who has since passed over to Heaven. She is my inspiration. She was a person I could tell my secrets to, a person who would cheer me when I was sad and help me up each time I fell. My grandmother always looked to the positive in life, and although she is now on her journey into the afterlife, she still comforts me in spirit and in my dreams. I am never alone because my grandmother is with me always.
    Love you, Grandma...

    Poem About Being Comforted By Grandma's Spirit

    A caterpillar walks in beauty
    through the sunshine and the rain,
    leaving sweet memories
    to ease away the pain.

    In time her image changes,
    and yet her soul remains the same,
    returning to the heavens
    from that in which she came.

    A butterfly of beauty,
    dancing upon the reef,
    softly whispers to me,
    comforts me in grief.

    Do not cry for me.
    Together we are one.
    My love for you shines brighter
    than the ever glowing sun.

    Her beauty, the brightest colors,
    gentle touch of love,
    fluttering wings casting light,
    shining through the clouds above.

    A caterpillar walked in beauty;
    a gentle soul was she.
    Alas, she is now a butterfly.
    Yet she'll always be Grandma to me.

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  20. 40. Love Is

    • By T.M.L
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems May 2008

    A short yet wise poem about love

    Love is a burning candle
    It's not always easy to handle
    It burns, but it's still beautiful
    And it makes celebrations oh so meaningful

    It's a sunset
    Burning with romance
    A song...
    That makes you want to dance...

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    This poem touched me in a great way. The people could have well been my teacher of teachers this night. I fell better for knowing the one I love is more near to my heart this night then ever...

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