Crowd Poems - Poems about Crowd

Written: June 14, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand **************** n e o n ...

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Upon green hills where gentle breezes play, A village wakes to greet the golden light. No city horns disturb the break of day, Just birds that sing and skies serenely bright. The air is crisp, each breath a gift so pure, With streams that babble secrets as they run. Life moves in rhythms peaceful and demure, Unhurried hours beneath the warming sun. Fields...

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The crowd came out to meet Him Jesus was thrilled to see them all He addressed them with such dignity And He loved, He loved them all Mary's Son did preach the gospel A mother's pride was understood She sat there right next to Him He faced the crowds like she new he would...

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How the crowd can cheer Cheering at someone's command Drowning out their hope ...

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does no one hear me are my words merely empty space does no one speak my language am i just a stranger in a crowd alone in this sea of bodies that perpetually pass me by AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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No, I don't want to be alone, but if I'm not alone, I become a selfish soul lost in the crowd, Alone in the arms of others, like a traveler lost without a map among unfamiliar faces, If I'm not alone, I become a martyr of silence or a voiceless flatterer amid the clamor, My soul slowly drowns...

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In the throngs of life, peace resides. Heed the wisdom of ancestors' stride. Their hearts spoke truths, words flowed free, Like rivers wild, their voices be. Look around, signs abound, In present lives, lessons are found. Know them, learn, and teach with care, Our heritage, our story, our children's share. Religion's path, a guiding light, Not a deceit, but a beacon bright. It shines the...

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No longer can I say that my heart thrives, But my love for life still quietly survives, A flame that burns with fervent might, Longing for a hand to hold in the night. I search the eyes of passing strangers, Hoping to find the spark to warm my embers, A connection that could set my soul free, But find only indifference, a...

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Let the silent be heard The world is not a stage Watching and never watched Angry we forgot to wave Pretension and aches Demonstrations of hate Why am I on your plate? Nothing else to consume Always leaving a bit more room To taste Stomach aching Stretching and fading Contractions no birth Oh It hurts, oh it hurts You’ll have to clean and release me Though you’d love to keep me I’ll...

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No mess is fantastic Lack of respect leads to war War is horrific, evil and poor Racism is not chic Modern slavery is painful Hate is awful, hurtful and plentiful There is no justice They don’t really want peace Hypocrisy is ubiquitous Supremacy is senseless Discrimination is tasteless Their audacity is obvious Corruption is rampant And the economy decadent This is absolute chaos The whole thing is a mess Less than...

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too much loud noise when I am in the crowd. In the restaurant, someone drops a plate. a child cries but I can't wait. The speaker plays a long song. too much loud noise when I am in the crowd....

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I've got a contact list bursting with names, Yet silence is the only voice that stays. I could call, they'd pick up and talk, But would they ever reach me? I've always shaped myself into what they needed, Twisting, bending, and breaking myself so that I won't be left behind. I give them comfort but where am I When my own hands...

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There are a lot of mysteries, anomalies and such, things that seem to have no explanation why they are. One of these (above the rest) that makes me wonder much - is how the foolish crowd is made of people who are far from being foolish on their own. Yes, people who are good. Yet somehow when they’re in...

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Once, she was the moon that lit my night, A beacon of silver, so soft, so bright. Her laughter—music that haunted my sleep, Her beauty—a secret my heart longed to keep. Through endless streets, I wandered in vain, Begging forgiveness, drowning in pain. Yet silence stood where her love had shone, A ghost of a dream now cold and gone. Today, I saw...

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In a world of faces, I'm lost in the crowd A master of mimicry, but my true self's avowed I change with the seasons, like leaves on the tree A chameleon's camouflage, to blend in with glee. I've tried on many faces, like masks in a play Hoping to find my true self, but it slips away I've copied the confident,...

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