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Todd Sommerville Dec 2024
Some hearts they beat alone,
no rhythm to join in.

Lost to wander with no home,
adrift upon the wind.

Riding the wave of life,
a lone surfer on the tide.

A leather clad biker,
on a long and dusty ride.

Blazing toward the sunset,
towards tomorrow,
towards the end.

My heart beats all alone,
no other rhythm to join in.
This poem is also on my you tube channel
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Thanks
Sara Barrett Dec 2024
"You made it look easy," they whisper—
A phrase that echoes, hollow and sharp,
Cutting through the quiet of my solitary journey.

Navigating parenthood alone,
A military spouse stretched thin by distance,
Selling dreams as fragile as glass,
Balanced on the edge of every choice.

A diagnosis presses against my chest,
One child in my arms, another learning beside me.
Battles hidden behind closed doors,
Invisible to those who see only the surface.

When I bared the depths of my soul,
Resilience bloomed like wildflowers—
Not a cry, but a roar.

Judgments swirl around me—
A storm of misconceptions,
Echoes of untold stories etching my truth.

Others glimpse my path only when they walk similar roads,
Their perceptions shifting like sand,
Revealing the landscape of unseen struggles.

My journey is not a blueprint,
Nor a promise of simplicity.
Each step a singular rhythm,
Each challenge a raw, unscripted melody.

I didn't make it look easy;
I made it look possible.

Resilience is not a performance,
But a quiet, fierce rebellion.

No shortcuts, no easy roads—
Just forward motion,
Carved from determination,
Etched with survival's raw grace.
This poem gives voice to the unseen struggles that accompany strength. It challenges the idea that resilience is effortless, peeling back the layers of solo journeys, hidden battles, and quiet determination. With striking imagery and a steady rhythm, it speaks to the reality of carrying on—not to make it look easy, but to make it possible. It's a reflection on survival, perseverance, and the unspoken grace of moving forward despite it all.
dead poet Dec 2024
put down,
you put up.
spill your guts -  
left with the cleanup.
your head is ******,
but unbowed.
invictus, you shall rise -
any day now.

the trials of morrow
lay vast and grey
waiting too see
if you let them prey -
on your mind,
your body,
your spirit,
your rage.
stay average,
or usher the golden age.

wipe the sweat
off your brow.
take a step back
‘fore you take the prowl.
glory is nigh,
do not haste, nor disavow.  
hush little soldier,
any day now.
Lizzie Bevis Dec 2024
Let the weight of the world go,  
Like morning frost  
Beneath dawn's tender touch.  
Spread your worries over the earth,  
Not as stones, but as seeds.  
Watch how fresh roots  
Will comfort your despair,  
Nurturing it into strength.

Then emerge with resilience,  
As daybreak’s first steady breath  
Calm, enduring and inevitable.  
Do not dwell on others' requests;  
Your heart knows its needs,  
Longing to become more  
Than just something.

Wishing to be whole and unbroken
By time's constant haste.
While adrift with your name
on the wind's tongue,  
Carried by the breeze  
That understands the truth.  
These winds have carved mountains  
And have ridden the tides  
Of wild, untamed oceans.

Take a moment to compose yourself.  
Your respite is not submission,  
But the gathering of thunder  
Within the lull before the storm breaks.  
It is a deep breath before your voice  
Awakens the sleeping sky,  
The dawn holds its breath in waiting,  
As the burden lessens with time.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Sora Dec 2024
Dear World,
You owe me.
You are indebted to me for a year of joy
for each minute of anguish I have endured.

Dear World,
you owe me.
You owe me a day of respite
for every fleeting second of stress I endured

Dear World,
You owe me
you owe me yet another half a lifetime
for the cherished childhood
that was unjustly snatched from me.

Dear World,
You owe me
you owe me a new heart,
a worthy substitute
for the one
that has been mercilessly
turned to dust.

Dear World,
You owe me
you owe me a renewed mind,
one liberated from terrors,
freed from the traumas
I did not solicit,
free
from the haunting memories
I endeavored so fiercely to erase,
Free
from the faces of those who inflicted pain upon me,
free
from the anguished cries of my brother,
of my sister,
of my mother,
of my family,
and of myself.

Dear World
You owe me
You owe me
Most significantly
...................................................­....
Esteemed Human,
I,
do not owe you
a single thing.
Kundai N Nov 2024
We are seedlings,
Needing a little nudge to the earth
Where precipitation is rife
For newfound birth.
Not choking in a bag, deprived of life
Whilst the storm can shine our worth.
The poem is a metaphorical exploration of growth and resilience. Seedlings, symbolizing potential, need nourishment and challenges to thrive. The storm, representing adversity, can spark transformation and strength, allowing the seedlings to flourish and reach their full potential.
underneath this steel hides
a tissue heart that is mine—
fragile at the slightest touch.
I surrender my paper heart
to the raging fire,
each fragile piece consumed.
slowly, from these ashes,
a fire rises—a phoenix,
scorching my heart with
molten hatred that numbs.
and so, my once-dead heart,
delicate and frail,
hardens into steel—
a heart that is
unyielding and unbroken.
Kasansa Kuya Nov 2024
From afar, it appeared so small,
So small, in fact, that I could not make out any details.
With every step, a new detail emerged,
With every breath, new energy converged.

A stone’s trip disrupted my journey
Towards the mountain.

Anger forced me to my knees,
My muscles atrophied,
The coming winds resisted my actions.
Lightning struck close to me,
The thick morning fog blinded me,
My nights were restless and full of terrors.

Time passed regardless of action
During the journey
Towards the mountain.

Failure was certain either way:
To fail while trying or to not move further.
Yet with every step, power returned.
The lightning illuminated the path,
The fog sharpened dull focus,
Restful nights restored lost intuition.

Certainty returned on the journey
Towards the mountain.

At the apex,
The starting point seemed so small—
So small, in fact, that I could not make out any details.
With a thought, every detail emerged.
Adrians Nov 2024
What have I got to do?
For this life to become alright.
Sleep, thrive and fight?
Cause blood's all I see within my sight.
As i put up a fight every night,
Without a care if I might die.

So my questions still stands,
What humans are truly made for...
Whether to really start wars?
Leaving behind many scars,
And acting like the justice guards.

The truth is all about the lore,
Nobody needs much anymore,
But I'll rise even if I'm sore,
Without a need for praise,
I'll survive for my own grace,
Thriving in this war to leave a trace,
Even if others do it for a paycheck raise.
Free verse with rhymes
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