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Teen Introspection Poems | Introspection Poems About Teen

These Teen Introspection poems are examples of Introspection poems about Teen. These are the best examples of Teen Introspection poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme |

The Hypocritical Christian

I am the hypocritical Christian.
I say I follow Christ,
But I'm still consumed by my demons.
I go to church on Sunday,
But I refuse to invite someone back.
I want to serve on mission,
But I'm too afraid to act.
They think I read The Bible,
But I just fall asleep in it.
They think I'm positivity and smiles,
But underneath I'm death and addictions.
They think I'm clean and pure,
But I'm broken and mistaken.
I say I'm not worthy of His love,
But Jesus will never let me be forsaken.
I pray long prayers,
But inside they're empty repetition.
It might look as if my faith is strong,
But my core is too easily shaken.
I say the things I'm supposed to say,
But don't follow His actions or obey.
I speak the truth the church wants to hear,
But deep inside on matters I don't know what to believe.
I walk in shame as if I'm not good enough
To be loved by God and saved through Christ,
But there is nothing I could ever do to earn His peace;
It's a free gift.
I accept;
Now forgiven, changed, and released.
Thank You God,
Thank You Jesus,
Thank You Holy Spirit!
In Jesus' Holy Name,
We pray,
Amen!


Details | Quatrain |

Lonely Dreams

I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.


Details | Free verse |

Legendary Lady Leaders I salute you

I am like
Cleopatra
embraced by serpents many
fear
always trying something new
and dramatic with my
hair
I am like
Eva Patrón
growing up with a painful family
getting lost in movies
thinking of my own
hypnotizing when I speak
First lady of Argentina
meeting you, after death
would be a treat
a nervous habit, of nibbling
on my jewelry
the similarities, between us
gave me a sense of foolery
I am like
Wilma Mankiller
Chief of the Cherokee Tribe
for ten years
fighting against Native stereotypes
despite such distress
enemies did stress
promoting to ‘be of good mind’
you were a leader, of your time
an advocator for women
that they may grow up
and become chief
as a child, you wondered
the forests, like me
not the streets
I am like
Aung San Suu Kyi
wearing three types of 
flowers in your hair
feeling at times like a 
‘splinter of glass, sharp, glinting
power to defend itself against hands
that try to crush’
winner of a Nobel Peace Prize, 
for courage, was
a must
I am like
Catherine The Great
a love to laugh,
coffee, and feeling compelled
to always fill abandoned blank
sheets of paper
you were a Royal Russian Empress,with
not one red drop of Russian blood
and her people, were blessed
to have her
I am like
the Queen of England
longest royal lifetime in history
strong built, from a miserable childhood
toughened her
this is no mystery
preferring candle light
to electricity
handwriting over typewriter
and poetry
I am like
Indira Gandhi
dreaming to live as she did
riding elephants and having
tiger cubs as companions
your own Sikh security
killed you, the story
a sad one
secret dreams of being a writer
angered, by the imbalance of
power
between men and women
listening to beat poets
like Ginsberg
as a great Prime Minister of India 
you were heard
and understood
I am like
Rigoberta Menchú
drew the worlds attention to 
native Indians rights,
because of you
your goal, to be
a drop of water on a rock
dripping in the same spot,
eventually in the world, you
may leave a mark
wearing many colors
‘because it gives you life’
insisting men and women be equals
you fought this fight
to relax, as I do
writing poetry into
 the night
I am like
Joan of Arc
French Military Heroine
burned at the stake at just
age nineteen
known for keeping your cool
even on the battlefield
being a courageous and inspirational
rare jewel
Legendary Lady Leaders
I salute you



Details | I do not know? |

Blood upon Pages

As I place the pen
on paper
my soul beings
to bleed
upon the pages
my secret longings
hopes and dreams
of which I hope to be,
how I want to reflect me
transpire into the universe
within my poetic lyricism
the warm sweet smoke
of my vega blunt
swirls about me, flickers
in and out of motion
as the vanilla candle nearby
fights the shadows in my room
the cool summer breeze
from my window
carries dancing sinsemilla 
fog around me, allowing
my mind
to adventure elsewhere
into the nights abyss
of minutes, turned to hours
I write
pages, of words
scribbling my life, struggles
and fears
Bob Marley and Lauryn Hills
“turn your lights down low”
beat inspirational peacefulness
on my eardrums
my small hands delicately pluck
my imaginary guitar strings
as I join her in a solo, Miss Hill's
magical voice cracks
with emotion, and my soul
tingles with excitement
For creativity flows
within my veins
I breath real music, such as
she, as soon as daylight opens
thine dark brown eyes to see
The poetic flowetry, carries me
and speaks to me
the notes capture my inner 
disturbance and desires
until the soundtrack of my day
takes me into Summers night
thoughts of my dreams 
of being a published poet
clearly float
into my sight
Then, I sit
as I place my pen
upon the paper
black and white turn to one
and my soul bleeds
onto pages
into an early sun


Details | Free verse |

Emotional Turbulence

The voices grow louder, Intensifying with emotion, anger lining every aggressive word. My insides squeeze tighter as the vitriol poisons my mind, How does such hostility exist? As the sound of hatred deepens, The feelings strengthen their grip, like a vice, So tight, I can no longer breathe All the negative emotions I have ever felt, fill me, Threatening to overflow. So long have they been banished… Enough. No more! My mouth opens, An earsplitting scream of pain and suffering shatters the silence, Sobs of sorrow and grief wrack my body, Murderous shrieks of anger and hate, Wretched cries of self-pity and self-loathing, Poison the air. Now, free of these emotions. But the monster still exists Within the dark depths of my mind.


Details | Rhyme |

Panic Room


Here in this room again 
mind’s racing 
the fan on low…

and I’m not to be trusted 
can’t be left alone here
with shot gun temples 
and a soul full of fear

no worse place than now
I can’t yell it more clearly 
I beg for your attention  
but I can’t stand you near me

contradiction swimming
in the blood of my veins
I’d cut off my hands
to send toxins to drain

I’m gutless
yet I’m too gutsy for action
say that in public
imagine the reaction

I sit in whirl pools
but I’ve always hated heat
and claim to take a stand 
but I’m lazy at my seat

and I’m always on time
as I miss the bus again
I lie in your face 
with a devilish grin

I’m harmless 
and swear I didn’t mean it
I talk about my conscience 
still I’ve never seen it 

in a world of swirling confusions
I’m stuck on the spin cycle
madness,
creating contusions
 
my game’s not over
I need a fresh start
I’m begging for new blood 
cus’ I’ve got a good heart


Details | Rhyme |

FINDING MYSELF



‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘’’’’’’ Angular hips now more round than grapes grieving a little for new voice whispered, swells of flesh curved in plumper shapes while the flow of monthly arrival lingered Almond eyes grew sultry deepening hue baby powder blending into lavender spray this crossover of rebellion I harshly knew, awkwardly choosing between truth or dare-play. Then, nights gazed at sandals of childhood seas toes raking, confused about dissent down path; a ruffled star finding myself sliced by cold trees as Mom screeched at moody blues ready to hatch My mind felt strange; Dad became a fading hero questioning him with glares longer than steam, rude awakenings cracked fears, tears stuck at zero with ripening bosoms; this turning point at thirteen Struggling for identity bloomed in freshman year when tresses climbed on stairs of clumsy romance beguiled by some hunger in my bones, a blushed cheer; exalting the senses, a lady-in-waiting for her first dance. © ‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’ For Frank Herrera: Coming of Age By nette onclaud


Details | Rhyme |

Tell me by Six

I love how we all sit in silence
as the clock begins to strike one
no surrender, we sit here, eyes open
waiting, we're waiting for sun

My fingers, they tap against the table
My thoughts are repeatedly on you
but not a word between us is spoken
and we're still silent as the clock strikes two

By three we're awake but so tired
you're still staring like i'm the one to blame
and maybe it is, but maybe it's you
but i don't speak, we sit here in shame

it's as if i'm sitting with a statue
 as creepy as the creak of the door
so eerie, a ghost sitting across from me
and i'm spooked as the clock strikes four

i can't believe that you haven't spoken
if you loved me then you would speak out
cause now the clock is chiming at five
and if i open up it will be a shout

it's six in the morning, we're restless
i can't believe that i wasted this time
your eyes haven't moved for two hours straight
and all i've got from that night, was this rhyme


Details | Rhyme |

Sexy

   Sexy is the way 

    her lips move on his ear. 

     Never touching 

      always whispering 

       things I'll never hear.


Details | Pantoum |

Sands Of Time

I wiggle my toes in the sands of time,
sifting through the grains and the years gone by.
Lamenting those years I was in my prime.
How fast, they seem now, to have flown by.

Sifting through the grains and the years gone by,
I recall the adventures in my life.
How fast they seem now, to have flown by,
through childhood, teen years, to become a wife.

I recall the adventures in my life.
Of scars and bruised ego's, that brought me here,
through childhood, teen years, to become a wife.
It seems I really had nothing to fear.

Of scars and bruised ego's that brought me here,
I realize now how they did mold me.
It seems I really had nothing to fear,
except for a future, I can not see.

I realize now, how they did mold me.
I relive my life, as the scenes unfold,
except for a future I can not see,
yet looking forward, to what my future holds.

Reliving my life, as the scenes unfold,
lamenting those years I was in my prime.
Yet, looking forward to what my future holds,
I wiggle my toes in the sands of time.



Entry for "The Pantoum" contest
Hosted by:  Jared Pickett
Placement:  Honorable Mention


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