Best Self Worth Poems
A Woman's Self-Worth, is highest among all, for it was a woman, God created, in thy divine holy image. Friendships, relationships, and holy matrimony, was God's blueprint, for all women.
Eve, the first wife and mother to all, was herself a motherless child, of God! God could have created children for Adam, but he chose to create a woman, to nurture his children.
Mother Teresa of Calcutta, (a religious leader), the Virgin Mary, (the mother of Jesus), both witnessed miracles, through spiritual divinity; And let us not forget the women of Galilee, who bared witness to the Messiah resurrecting.
First Lady, (Lady Bird Johnson), a great teacher, a humanitarian at heart. She was known for her gracious personality and hospitality, and she also campaigned against poverty.
First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, I have to give mention, the first presidential spouse to speak at a national convention. She also advocated for civil rights of the African American people, as well as others. I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, America's great mothers.
Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, Angela Davis, Maya Angelou, and First Lady Michelle Obama, just to name a few, had unbelievable courage, intelligence, beauty, and power too.
Young women be strong, handle your throne, A woman's self-worth is more than a thong, a short skirt, twerking in dirt. Mother Teresa, was a teacher, a missionary, a mother to all!
Don't lower yourself, stand tall.
"A Woman's Self-Worth"
My self esteem never peaked
Mental abuse always leaked
From your foul and mean mouth
All my dignity just flew south
And never came back again
Your so proud that you could win
The power of my sad heart
Broken from the very start
I was born -- it never ended
Young and naive you pretnended
To care for and love me true
Dishonest lies came from you
As I grew and figured out
What your lies were all about
It was too late for me to find
Self esteem of any kind
All my self worth you just ruined
My anger is largely brewing
As I think back to the days
I never recognized the ways
My siblings received the love
I needed and missed so much
Was I such a useless burden
You threw me aside and hurtin'
Fragile, unsure and so young
My chance on life never begun
An innocent baby can not grow
Without the love a parent shows
Why did my sisters and brothers
Get the love while I was smothered
By neglect and loneliness
So much joy my life has missed
A little girl trapped in the fate
Of so much despair and hate
What Love commands the train fulfills,
The six thirty bounds to Coney Island
Where the green Ubers awaits the passengers
Morning greetings, (Urdu) of few words, were the
Pakistan, rules Mermaid Street with the neon green
Were too mama? where too, two dollars:
A repeat routine for most of us,
Whether you’re a morning person or a night owl, we all start our day at some point. And we all seem to start it differently. (Kevan Lee)
Five forty showers, get dress out the door before six a.m.
Grab the garbage, and walk three minutes to the subway,
where love commands the train fulfills, which lessened
My morning depression until midday, (who control whom)
Why was I born, why am even here, what is my personal worth?
Timeless question, who would remember me, when I am gone?
The train, the cabbies, would the streets miss my dragging feet?
Self-observation, is it worth a Newyork minute of whom will miss us. (really)
Void, void, void, void, void, void, void, and more void,
Just allowed the few that might to do some adjustments
For the sake of remembering me, for the sake of losing my car fare,
For the sake of not receiving, my monthly fees, and T-Mobile
you definitely would, release me from my grandfather plans:
Today, I sit in silence, away from all sounds, only the sounds
Of a keyboard, and my heartbeat, as the mouse goes click, click
For the sake of remembering is that a poet is only good at recollecting, reflecting, and making his audience believes in his words:
This Photo by Unknown Author
Be in being
Full of loving
Be stillness clear
In sublime cheer
Be ready then
You know not when
Be by my side
For this joy ride
Be with me now
Purge why and how
Be true to see
What yet must be
Be a calm voice
As choice meets poise
Be love so grand
A timeless friend
Be as you can
Beyond mere plan
Be without fear
For love lives here
Be as you feel
True love that heals
Leon Enriquez
29 September 2018
Singapore
I am not responsible
for the ache that blooms in others
when I place my name
above their expectations.
I have spent lifetimes
softening my voice,
shrinking my needs,
turning myself into a bridge
everyone could cross
while I remained unseen.
No more.
I refuse to apologize
for setting boundaries
where I once offered blood.
I refuse to carry guilt
that was never mine to hold.
My choosing myself
is not cruelty—
it is survival.
It is the long-delayed breath
of a woman who learned
that love without self-respect
is only a slow disappearance.
If my growth unsettles you,
let it.
If my no feels heavy,
place it down—
it was never meant to live in my hands.
I am allowed
to protect my peace,
to bloom without permission,
to walk away from rooms
where my silence was preferred
over my truth.
I choose myself
not to wound the world,
but to finally heal
the woman I abandoned
for far too long.
And that—
that is not selfishness.
That is coming home.
I’m a good woman, beautiful
I know my worth
I deserve a man who is good for me
Not a narsusis who don’t care about who he hurt
I know my worth
I respect him and he respect me
We would be Equally yoked
He would stand up for me
And love me quietly
We won’t tell our business to anybody
Until God blesses me with that kind of love
I’ll just thank God for what I have, find my purpose and thank God that I am blessed
I’d rather be plain hard to get
To any man
I’m worth his patience
I understand
That I am the prize
That I am a blessing from the most high
I know my worth
I need a man who is confident and
When he see me he know that we can grow
Together spiritually
And I am THE option and not an option
When he see me,No other woman matter
His eye is on me
The one knows his Queen
The Chosen
People say not being the chosen one is the worst.
But what if it isn’t?
What if you’re chosen—
but for all the wrong reasons?
Yes, I was chosen,
just to be a measuring tool—
something to compare,
against unfinished things,
just to feel better about yourself.
Like a trophy,
kept in plain sight,
on a neatly managed shelf.
Only ever looked at
from a distance—
always just a glance,
never long enough to notice.
Perhaps if they had,
they would have seen the rust.
Yes, I was chosen—
as the permanent wrong choice,
the one that reminds you
of what you could have had.
Like a roll of dice—
“if only I had thrown it differently,
if only I got another number…”
If only.
I was always the what if.
I was chosen—
but only to blame,
like how you blame the corner
when you stub your toe.
Never atleast a deserving blame.
There’s a difference
between being chosen
and being wanted.
What’s the point of being chosen
if all you hear
is the echo
of the one who wasn’t?
Who is truly chosen?
And how do you even define it?
What’s the point of being chosen
if wanting never follows?
I should embrace the thought of Karma,
that positive aspect that could change me,
instead I rely on my irresistible Charisma
which sparks the friendlessness in me.
I'm more than a kind-hearted man when it
it comes to helping others by lending a hand;
I am the universal believer of honor and respect,
of diversity and equality; I can be anyone's friend.
These traits were instilled in me by kind people,
who had endless faith in God and smiled at life
even when they faced the most challenging struggle;
in the land of brotherhood and continuous strife,
my people preserved their identity and great culture
that the invaders envied them for their ampleness of wisdom,
for the richness of their land, so they usurped their kingdom.
Never being ashamed of what I am and being that light,
I have found my self-worth in loving and compassionate eyes;
and they deserve the right to abundance, and when it's scarce,
they compromise by singing from windows and balconies...
believing that those doing harm are punishing themselves
for envying what they possess: the extraordinary strength to fight.
I lament the decay of institutions, I revel the concept of a rebirth
of the Mezzogiorno* that can put real gold in their empty hands,
but this image is a deterrent to go forward and be productive;
perhaps in my lifetime, I will not see these changes, it's so elusive
to look away and not consider that this society deserves self-worth
and embark on a journey as their forefathers did in these rich lands.
* The Mezzogiorno ( Southern Italy ) is still a colony
of Northern Italy since the Unification of Italy
in 1861. King Vittorio Emanuele II ordered a genocide of all the rebels
who opposed his government and that included their families. They were called Briganti ( lawless ). The Italian President Napolitano refused to honor them
with A Remembrance Day, and yet he honored a king who ordered the massacre of thousands of innocent people including Neapolitan and Bourbon soldiers.
An image is but a reflection, a picture, a mold, but do you understand the power a man holds? His extraordinary mind, his value, his soul, is life to bestowed.
To women, he is meek, strong and yet weak, he loves and he cheats, he comes, he goes, fighting to maintain a place, in a world he once thought he owned.
God took a man's rib to give life to his woman, and his future kids. To build a world, a nation, for all future generations. He was given knowledge to teach, to build, and to lead, to nurture a world, for all to bear seed.
Man was given the commandments from God's very soul, for his woman, and children to behold. He wrote the bible, with his own hands, he wrote the declarations of independence, for which we stand.
Man took us in and out of slavery, chained liked animals, he did not forget we are his family. Man took us in and out of war, time and time again, fighting to to preserve life, and our land!
A Man's self worth is more than gold, it is life to cherish and behold. When I think of "The father, the son, and the Holy Ghost, It is during these times, that I understand
"A Man's Self-Worth" the most!
I believe in God, Our creator, Father almighty, his only son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, therefore, I believe in you!!!
Slash here, slash there
One by one depression consumes
One after another death is counting
One year after this what will to come?
Stop!!
Please stop!!
I'm begging you
You're worth it!
You exist in this world for a beautiful reason
Open your eyes, minds and hearts
Accept the beauty in your flaws
Rejection, failures, mistakes
What a coincidence!
It's a guidance
One day you'll overcome it
Your strength is undeniable
Why the change you ask?
Well, it's for the better
You're beautiful!
You're amazing!
Boys and girls; Men and women
They're all humans
Same as me and you
Please stop hurting yourself
I love you
Not just me
But everyone else does too
Hiding and counting
Time never wait as they say
Enjoy your time
God is there for you
Emmanuel is what it refers to
He was a simple boy
Everyone told him, made fun of him too.
Called him names and laughed at him.
Mean names.
He thought he was low.
Afraid his kindergarten teacher would find out.
She did not know, and neither did his classmates.
He was well-liked, and always wondered why.
He looked down at his feet most of his life,
Studying his shoes, always thinking about how simple he was
And low, and slow, and not smart in any kind of way.
Not because he was, but because his parents were name-callers.
Can we only judge ourselves
through other people's eyes?
Who's do we look through
to show us truth not lies?
Can we only gauge our worth
from others point of view?
Should we trust just anyone's
or be selective who?
Who gives the better portrait
is it either friend or foe
that shows us what we really are
and what we need to know?
A friend may fear to hurt us
a stranger has nothing to lose.
Who makes the picture clearer
who's opinion do we chose?
Is it how we see ourselves
that tells us how we rate?
Or do we need another soul
to give our value weight?
probing rays of light
spill through
my window pain
my mind wanders
between shadow and fray
I exhale a faint whisper
into the stagnant
life hovering around me
energy awakens and begins
a dizzy stumbling dance
the sun searches for my presence
in this otherwise dim and lonely space
a hot touch finds my face
I squint as if staring
at the abusive hand
of a dead lover
I recoil in a harsh memory laid to rest
haunted specters
edge through unfulfilled spaces
I lie stoic listening for time to move
I step up on a stair
spiraling down to a
door of self-doubt
that has rotted with age
the hinges have rusted,
and a drunken handle is
dangling
a window of self-blame
fogged by anxious ventilation
curdles inside its frame
it slams wide-shut
when confronted
with any shudder of pain
a bucket of trauma spills over revealing memories
unsettling and stark
but suddenly, a cosmic rain of tears
pours down from above
it washes the fear, branded to my heart
I am showered in healing and unconditional love
memories may surface in soft places,
but I won't be bound,
by the fear or inadequacy
that tore me down
I will never allow my
self-worth to be invaded,
nor my soul, to ever again be degraded
Butterfly
In the silence of regret, we lose our faith
In the noise of anger, we lose ourselves.
Find me a place where faith is healed
A place of refuge where I may grow like the wings of a butterfly,
Where my metamorphosis will empower my flagging will.
Let me feel the beat of your angelic wings against the cheek of my heart,
So that I may know what it feels to be loved.
Fear not my unawakened soul,
In you it will find its complement
Then only will I be complete...
When life is done and all a mist
What was it worth to live?
If all we've done is take it in
and rarely chose to give,
All you'll have left is life ahead
for someone just behind you.
Their Love for you is worth a lot
Their gratitude revives you.
By L. Dale Mckee