First Love Poems | Examples

Talk to me

Say something
What do you
Want me to say
Expect me to say
Hope I'll day
Expectation holding sway 
The words fall short
Of the chasm 
We chiseled out 
From growing silence

Goodbye

You never smile when I see you
I never frown when I meet your eyes.
It seems to me that our story is over
We meant it when we said goodbye.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Cubby: More than A Soft Toy

In the quiet corners of my mind-
A fuzzy friend named Cubby still resides.
Years ago, when I was three,
He tumbled into my life, so warm and free.
His legs once jiggled, full of beads,
Now gently limp, shaped by years and needs.
Stitches faded, fur rubbed thin,
Yet love, not fabric, holds him in.
Psychology whispers: attachment, security,
But Cubby is more than theory-he's memory's purity.
He's comfort on restless nights,
A silent listener to childhood's frights.
One summer day, a suitcase closed-
Cubby missing, my heart exposed.
Tears spilled all the way back home,
I felt so lost, so all alone.
But surprise! My brother's gentle tease:
He'd tucked Cubby away, aimed to please.
The ache of loss became relief so sweet-
Reunion turning sorrow to heartbeat.
Why do we long for what can't speak?
Why do soft things make us weak?
Perhaps in Cubby, I see a part
Of something gentle in my heart.
He's more than cotton, thread, and fur-
He's childhood's echo, comforter.
Psychology says it's just a phase,
But Cubby's love, it never decays.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member New country album release

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John Derek Hamilton 
September 12,2025
Form: Didactic

To Mars

To Mars

My memory came calling
Caught me by surprise
Taking me back to a time gone away

Her hair was dark
Voice a little raspy
The freckles on her nose
Made her unique in her own way
SHE MADE HER  MARK

I was black and white
She was grey
But somehow we connected
SHE MADE HER MARK

With every word she spoke
I became infatuated with her 
Sense of being
SHE MADE HER MARK

Our time together was only a flash
 we started a fire and let it burn
SHE MADE HER MARK

She left like a thief but that
Was her way

I often look back at the path of 
My existence 
And see her footprints
SHE MADE HER MARK


Hanging shadow

I comb your shadow hanging on the dream wall
swinging on the dim ceiling
sometimes you grin up there
sometimes you laugh so sweetly in the silence
my fingers are always thirsty, touching your dark jaw
your waving mane
so fragrant in the night air
I will pull a piece of the blanket
letting your shadow crawl to my side
and fall asleep together until dawn erases your shadow

Color In Your Fingers

A sketchbook from back then
was stained with abstract colors
like our ten fingers
why didn't we arrange bright colors back then?
black, blue, and white
mixed together without a basis
I remember very well
how the pattern was ultimately
ruined by the darkness
while you labored
on your own sketch
and I only knew a little about that fetish

We grew like shoots
far away from the colors back then
like a line that had been etched
sometimes we disappeared

I still live with bangs on my forehead
exactly the same as back then
and you still like classic cars?
maybe we've only gone a few steps

Count 20, open eyes
ahh, that's just a coincidence
I still scold Wednesday
but you look good
with those stripes

Sometimes you give in
waiting for me to run awkwardly across
you strummed that music
making me confused
guessing your dream last night
but you were far more confused
because you didn't say anything

Do you still remember
the flaw in my eye?
While I was still writing poetry
I seemed to be starting to forget the calm
shape of your Adam's apple 
when you drew black lines on our sketch.

Caffeine vapor

Caffeine vapor billows
blowing with the raindrops
the ceiling says
my body wanders
to a part of nowhere
glowing like a warm air
as if it were true

The reflection of the latte under the yellow light
the foam forms a crescent
like the curve of your smiling eyes

Petrichor tonight is so foreign
because only the gentle wind
between your body is familiar to me

I begin to enjoy the thunder
thundering beats
rhythmically
with the same beats
like an album cliché at my fingertips
jumping from time to time

Raindrops intertwined with nostalgia
melancholic rhythm
irony and romance
instantly combined
now flowing away

Cathedral at the end of night

The cathedral was still lit late at night 
dance music played faintly t
the drapes waved gently
the feet spun and floated
the silhouette danced gracefully
the silhouette grabbed a hand and spun
the silhouette spun in love late at night
the silhouette was alone
there was no hand to hold
there was no body to spin it in the air
but the music still hummed softly
the silhouette left
the silhouette let go of its grip.

Dance among the crashing waves

A dance among the crashing waves
The turbulent sea on the shore
Rolling with white sand
The fragility of a body in pieces
In footprints that have left behind
The wind blows on the waving strands
Like a dance in the shadows at the edge of the beach
When fingers clasp
The waves run
Clashing against towering rocks
Playing with dreams at the end of the day
As if the sun will never go away

Port at the end of room

If it's a harbor at the end of the beach
then just say my name in a whisper
like a boat going back and forth
within its sturdy walls

And if it's a house
then the door is cracked
even though it's battered by the wind

There's no hot tea there
let alone the lonely flower of eternity
only soft eyes that feel different

No, not because everything has faded
but simply because it's over
this body still exists amidst the dusty walls
and you just need to speak

And if everything is gone
conveyed in the coldness of your low voice
then never close that door
let the dust continue to seep in between the cracks
and everything will fade
but not all the stories
that you whispered in the dim emptiness

Dirty shoe steps

Your shoes are getting shabby
over time and the story that has been spun
Do you still remember the drawing paper and brush?
I painted the colors that were dark at the time
Then we drew together
In flowing, abstract strokes

Ahh, I remember so well
The field across from our classroom
15 years old in the drizzle
The first piece of cake you took from my hand
And a book that made us dizzy

We were still so young
With hearts clean and untainted by love
Still pure in the grip of friendship

Will you remember it well?
Two young people now fragile in adulthood
And if I reach out
To just be friends again
At least we won't fall into despair

Ended in misery

The heat creeps into the empty fabric
only getting colder
inside the tightly closed gray jacket
no warmth of jokes and laughter
nor embraces that are increasingly glowing
please, close your eyes for a moment
let me kiss between your reddened eyelids
bitterness of isolation

And if it's tomorrow
take the time for a final greeting
when I'm still stuck at the end of the road
so that the pressure on our shoulders will lighten

If it's still 20 counts
let's turn away before the bitterness ends and silences
before regret and suffocation grip us even more
before forgiveness and love are expressed again

Count 20

I'll run again at 20
If that's what you want
I can play in the rain on the asphalt
Without the soothing petrichor
If 20 minutes without your shadow ever existed
I'll cry my eyes out
Then laugh again
No longer able to use metaphors
In romantic stories
Sarcastic erases so much
Let's breathe a sigh of relief
We're no longer at the end of the road
But truly at the end
Not waving in a single word
Turning back into isolation

Untitled

My heart still waits where shadows fall,
For love that left yet owns it all.
Form: Couplet

Specific Types of First Love Poems

Definition | What is First Love in Poetry?

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