Teen Anxiety Poems | Examples

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


Ambiverted

The party is loud,noise in the air
People all around,
I'm sitting down,
Present.......but not really there.

I linger in the back,a watchful eye
In the background,
Invisible
I see many pass me by.

Interest has left,and all feels dull
No one approaches 
Or wants to talk,
My introversion makes me mull.

I could be social,and enter the fray
But it's all a group 
And shallow talk,
No deep conversations today.

No good friends for discourse;
I know all here
But still feel a stranger;
All too well,I know this remorse.

I try to mingle,but I've lost the heart
They all seem so........
Uninterested;
So from the crowd,I stay apart.

I try distraction,for my mind,
The food is good
But not much else,
Entertainment is hard to find.

Why,I ask,did I even go?
My hypocrisy 
Boggles me,
Why I'm like this,I don't know.

Yet here I am,a wallflower;
Unbecoming for a guy,
I think,
As I wait away the hours.

Maybe I'll find someone,someday,
To talk the boredom 
Away with,
Until the party fades away...............





Oh look,they finally started volleyball

            volleyball is fun.......


Ode to Him

Ruffles of sand that flash before my eyes in every waking moment
Oceans of blue that briefly lift and meet mine
My plain, brown eyes, that would blend in the mud
And my clothes that never lose the scent of pine
Versus his hoodies and the gold chain that hangs around his neck
Or the glasses that come and go upon his nose,
His brain, or the fact he shares a name
With the boy who hurt me the most. 
When I stand surrounded, I look for him
Watching the door, hoping to see his hesitant gait
And the way he shoves his hands in his pockets
Seemingly content to stop, watch, and wait. 
When the day fades to night, and the crickets cease to chirp
It’s him who haunts me when I lie awake in bed
Replaying each little interaction
And regretting the things that i never said. 
Every corner of my mind stays aware
Of how fragile our tether will be
If I allow myself to stare into those oceans of blue
A single wave would wash us out to sea.
So silent I sit whenever he comes around
The fear that I keep protects my fractured heart
Injured, but not quite broken
By a love that didn’t start.

Children who shriek

The hospital machine beeps,
My knees weak, the walls are bleak.
I'm bitting my cheek whilst the ward doors creak
I can hear the children shriek, they look weak through a sneak peak.

Explanations are oblique,
These children will be me in a week.
There's critique of technique for hell week;
which is not for the weak.
Streaks of blood, dizzy from drugs
Staring at the paintings of ladybugs
Trying to sleep with ear plugs

I want to smash a mug, the frustration builds inside, stuck in bed
Feeling like led, can't even eat bread, knee held together with thread, throbbing red, Feeling half dead.
I suddenly woke up in bed with dread for next week when I become,
the children who shriek.

Love poems

I want to write love poems
About what i feel inside
But every instinct i have
Just tells me to hide

I bleed on paper
I write out my blues
So how can i change
And write happy things too?

I keep the hopeful thoughts locked up
Tucked close to my heart
“Let no person see it,
No word line or part”

Premium MemberBiting Eyes

Ebony eyes with teeth a biting stare
Haunting me with a green glare
Chewing at me with anticipation 
What is wanted is imagination 

Envious heart fancies me more
Than I am fore I am a bore
I dress humbly I’m not too proud 
Yet someone watching me now

As a teen I recalled this feeling
Never wore anything revealing
But as one blooms curves come
And unwanted attention from 

Teachers who were really perverts
Normal peers and some jerks
I use to think God this is a curse
It will be better inside is His word


Plain Girl

“Why are you friends with someone like her when you could be friends with popular people?”

Someone like her.
Someone who doesn’t stand out
Not with looks
Not with personality

Plain girl doesn’t talk to boys
She doesn’t wear makeup or buy the right clothes
She spends her free time doing homework or writing poetry

If she's beautiful, it’s the kind nobody sees
At least, they don’t see past her flaws
the way she collapses into herself while in public,
Crossing her arms and hunching her shoulders to be as invisible as possible

They won’t look past the anxiety that extinguishes any confidence
Because plain girl isn’t worth the effort

She’s just there.

blinded by the rumors

He doesn’t trust me. I told him the truth. He doesn’t care that I told the truth, he believes them. He thinks that I lied. His eyes have nothing but hate and darkness in them. His body stones there's no warmth in his lip. He is blinded by the words that never existed. I tell him the truth. I'm pleading the truth. God why doesn’t he believe me. His hug is so close. But I would never dare to touch him. He’s yelling, I’m scared. I’m so scared. Does he see my tears of hurting love doesn’t he see how much his words are hurting me. Will he ever believe me? I don’t know. Will his anger blind him and he will do more than yell? I'm scared of what will come next…

His Whispers in Silence

verses dipped in gray ink
his blue sky failed to turn pink 
color changed faster than light
love in gray his soul screams
moon obscured by the fog
he dreamed of anastolic dreams

tattoos are hard to get off
his mind made him a slave
refused to burn in that fire
he decided to stay at same place
wishing on that wishful star
he burned his pride and let his tears rain

picked like a flower in the storm
by tyrant monsters like it's a fun game
hurt his pride, and took his crown
his days never saw daylight
in that dark haze brought by the storm
search for a beacon came to an end

live as an alien in his own town
in void of someone,  he couldn't lift up his quill
blood moon and screams in his head
pain and bruises stuck under his skin
parted ways when times were rough
his quietude and joy's eclipse

The Silence

I'm sick of the silence
I’m sick of the distance
I’m sick of hiding
I’m sick of being someone i’m not
I’m sick of trying too hard just to fall short
I’m sick of the lies, the lies that keep me up at night wondering if this was a canon event that changed my life
I’m sick of trying too hard just to fall short, over, and over again
I’m sick of the loss of friendship in our society
I’m sick of the tension
I’m sick of being a teen
I’m sick of feeling
I’m sick of the anxiety and overthinking
I’m sick of the mood swings
I’m sick of being a girl, stereotyped and criticized, expected to do the wrong thing.

Nostalgia

whipping window glass covered with dew,
I perched to get a panoramic view.
Meadow in front is still in shape, 
Resuming to become place of escape.
Calling my name all these years, 
Heard it when I sharpened my ears.
As Petrichor acted like time machine,
Bringing back the memories of teen.
The old tree I sheltered in hide and seek,
Piece of beauty when youth was in peak.
When we were in woods a bit deep,
In obscurity what must be here to creep.
Returning home with promise to return,
To inquire over what is left to learn.

The person I used to be

A wandering soul
Lost and confused
An un-played role
So mentally abused

If I cry
I seem weak
A displayed lie
Purpose, I seek

I didn't live that life
I found an exit
Looked for light
I held on, didn't slip

Had a masked face
Covering up disgrace

Premium MemberAftermath of Active Shooter

Silver bullets have no eyes
They care not who is hit
American schools where bullets fly
Terrorizing the staff and kids

The shooter often a kid as well
This time he is a 14 year old
His father arrested headed to jail
How much about his child did he know

The photo they splash on the tv
Of a blonde haired student teen
Surely a nightmare who could dream
So tender of age to be so mean

Two teachers two students gone forever 
Killed by a teen with gun access
Families torn apart love is severed
How can you not feel distressed

As prayers go up we look now
To the parents of this young man 
What reasons in his life will be found
That he would cause death with his hand

His mother surely feels regret
Obviously he was deeply disturbed
The nation again is utterly upset
Gun violence hits a sensitive nerve

Castles and Djinns

Find a way to go, know that you'll be fine with it 
If you choose a road, and you know that you're not fine with it 
There's a better way, you'll see better days 
Life will be great when you're in your castle 

I gotta roam alone but I know you'll find your way
If you're feeling low, know you're still glowing to me 
There's a better way, you'll see better days 
Life will be great when you're in your castle now

Blissful Nights

Nothing beats the relief I felt those nights,
Those nights where all the stress melted away,
Four nights, total peace, no w’rry in sight.
As the pills were sw’llowed, they lifted a weight.

I was happy I’d n’ver wake up again,
See my next birthday, or have a boyfriend.
I thought I would leave this world as a teen,
But I have never been more mistaken.

The days that led up to those blissful nights,
I updated my letters and went on,
With false hope I’d no l’nger have to fight,
Nothing but a dream that vanished at dawn.

No matter how much I took, it ended the same,
Vomiting in h’spital, pointed with blame.

Premium MemberY I became a poet NOT FOR CONTEST

I believe that at first
I had a thirst for word
As a child I’d create my own style 
And make up words to popular songs 
Especially when I wanted to sing along
But did not have the vocabulary at age two
By age six I was full of poetic bliss
But only pounding keys on my toy piano
Shouting made up songs as I’d go
Then on a whim of destiny 
I became a victim of rape 
But I had no word for it 
I truly didn’t know what to say
I didn’t understand at age six
That it was a teen and I was just a kid
I saw blood and thought the cool aide 
I drank had simply leaked from me
The pain and shame was like a bad dream
But I did not despair for music was there

Then at age seven ironically
A family member, my father began molesting me 
This time after years I did speak
To my sixth grade teacher who intervened 
But before I could find a way to tell
I used poetry and journalism to excel
My writing was not really the best
But it saved me non the less
So for me music and poetry
Are at the core of my salvation my peace
Years of fears tears and therapy
I am healed and better for it all
Thanks to God and a teacher 
Who inspired me to talk.

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