Acceptance Poems - Poems about Acceptance

Okapi thought he was a horse Attempted to blend in, of course Zebras kicked him out Horses ran about But okapi had no remorse ...

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That day she decided to speak For too long they had called her meek She woke up early Decided she'd wear something that would compliment her curvy Spent hours on her hair making sure each and every follicle was extra curly She wore dark red lipstick to cause a lot of controversy Her mom saw her said...

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There was a dreary blip in my life I feared two depressing outcomes The first, hell I separate myself from societal pressures I accept who I am I let go of all that abuse that has kept me who I was I let go of hiding behind a hundred carefully tailored masks Just so one may approve of me But in return I risk...

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my personality is too much for some i can change it. i’m too loud sometimes i can change it. i overwhelm others with my emotions i can change it. i laugh too much i can change it. i’m not popular enough i can change it. the constant struggle to fit in to be liked all revolves around perspective don’t look for certain things in the wrong people...

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I know making you less perfect won’t make me any better yet I can’t help it I fabricate your flaws in my head  as if it would make my own disappear  almost as if ruining you made me any better … almost as if making you imperfect made me as perfect as you —maybe I should learn to love my flaws instead of obsessing...

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When troubles come and clouds appear, And all your worries draw so near. A peaceful answer, soft and low, To truly learn and gently grow. Just let it be, the wisdom clear, And banish every anxious fear. For solace comes, a calming grace, To find your quiet, steady space. ©bfa060225) Song: Let It Be ...

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My muse me muse you amuse me. My muse me muse we amuse unity. My muse me muse we sometimes amuse abuse. My muse me muse we amuse our children with charity. My muse me muse we amuse dying as an art of living. My muse me muse we amuse gratitude. My muse me muse we amuse reading. My muse me...

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I saw him in the corridor — my mind stopped for a moment, all my emotions rushing back, stunned, yet I kept walking. Once I was away, I crossed a wall — and broke down, tears flowing down my cheeks, words unsaid I couldn’t hold. I wanted to stay, to hold on to him, but I needed to go — to let go for my peace. I saw...

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Whispers Beneath the Cemetery Is love undead? Is love fate? Is love just holding on— a ghost that won’t abate? Does death mean I must give up on us, let go of what was? I stare at your grave— hours slipping by— Will you resurrect? Will you rise or die? A strange peace lingers— a burden I can’t lay down, The silence, the stillness— haunting and profound. I feel you...

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It's hard What is? The feigned facade displayed on Caps on my face The last thing I am is brave In the dark, I'm everything I want to be In the light, I'm who they want me to be. It's hard What is? The imposed words gushing from their mouths with the resonance of stamps Like rules but they are beliefs Beliefs that I...

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Museums A place full of stories Of art Not just in the paintings But in the people too A little black girl walking hand in hand with her mother Her eyes lit up in wonder Wandering what she would discover While she walks around Spinning around And jumping up and down She doesn't see That everytime she jumps the light reflecting on her beautiful...

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I fear many things. I fear I stay complacent in my own misery. Time is of the essence, yet action for change is unattainable And I speak of change possible for myself, which is perhaps the most upsetting point to note, for my limits are set on a glass roof I fear I will shatter with my feet on the...

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The tilt of a head The pass of a ball Things that make me believe I’m wanted after all ...

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The Prismatic Self Premiere Contest Winner I meet myself at the edge of mirror glass— its surface holds me like a verdict; renders me in symmetry I do not trust. Do I offer brilliance, or only repetition? Each submission a blade, each stanza a wound— I split myself into offerings, waiting for the weight of judgment. The axe does not ask, only...

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if you can't accept you; you won't accept me accept self to be authentic; remove shame there are no flaws imperfection is true perfection honest, trustworthy, genuine with self if you won't accept you; you can't accept me ...

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