Family Friend Poems | Examples
These Family Friend poems are examples of Friend poems about Family. These are the best examples of Friend Family poems written by international poets.
To her mum's spanks,
let her cry on your tender shoulder,
oh, soft toy Teddy,
Through all her sleepless nights,
lull her to deep sleep
by her side remain steady.
When the weather burns hot,
soak her sweat away.
When cold wind whispers
let your warmth be ever ready.
Though you are a toy,
be more than that to her,
If you had a tummy
Let her feed you, as if you live.
Though, she dislikes your silver shade,
in the darkest nights,
let your brightness calm her fears.
Throughout her childhood
even for a breath, never leave.
Remain her best friend;
though wordless, speak to her heart,
for only in your comfort she believes.
Such were the tender words of my aunt's sermon,
to my beautiful Eliza,
for she fulfilled each promise
made to Aunty Jane
showering me with nothing but relief.
Joana, here I hand over to you Eliza,
from your grand Aunt to you my niece,
As it guided my childhood,
let it guide yours too.
Keep it clean, take good care of it.
As I hand it over to you,
one day hand it over to your niece too,
a bond of comfort
that will outlive just us two.
Charlie was a gift, lifting us to thoughts, making us think of all the stuff we want to know.
Charlie was light, making all of our thoughts feel his light, making us want to participate in his debate with life.
Charlie was a man of God, working day and night for all of God’s delight.
Charlie was a lover of family and worked to grow heaven’s army, shining light to all that would listen, he made a path for us to follow.
Charlie was called home, and I am sure God was standing at the door, waiting for the amazing Charlie to make heaven light up with joy.
Charlie we will miss you every day, we will work hard to spread all of your words.
Charlie your spirit for life, is spreading like the fire of God, just like the words God spoke to Moses from the burning bush.
Charlie we lift prayer for you and your family; we are all keeping you in our thoughts and hearts.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Fell to my knees, broken that day
Couldn't believe you'd been taken.
Cut down in your prime by Evil.
Blood. Bullets were not meant for you.
The Devil flashed a smile in court.
Your family grieved in silence;
Screaming inside, "You murderer!"
Karma will have her way with you.
*Oxymoron Poetry Contest
*Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
*Entered on: 08/31/2025
I saw American maiden with the choky breath
Panting sideways with the teary face .
I recently listned the siren of ambulance
And family sobs and I went past to her
Unfortunately, the ambulance left
It was a painful tragedy
Which made kins cried
I was anxious and tensed
When friends rosed questions about why
I could be rather be speechless
Eventhough I was questioned by my college mates
Which was unspoken incident which made
me numbed and fearful
it resulted in trauma and flashbacks
This is a painful tragedy
I could nt resist why
When I listened the wailing voices then
It made me cry
I could not forget the girl that
Was in my mind
there’s no true lovers
but just lovers who never change
so at this party morning
we create a situation
and you join us for the wedding
I just want to hold closer
I just want to whisper
a song to you
I’m finding
a strange way
to love people
all directions from the same place
don’t lead to the same place
that’s why you’re a butterfly
and I, a moth, but one family
the abandoned lawn
but I care about you
you need to know your battles
and how to choose your directions
Those we love don't go away,
They walk beside us every day.
Yet not all love returns our call,
some stand near just to let us fall.
Love is not a guarantee,
They may not feel the same for me.
Those we love won't always stay,
Nor always love us the same way.
For every love that fades or ends
There are still those who stays -- true friends
And family, through both joy and pain,
will hold us close and still remain.
You were my first and truest guide,
With open arms and heart so wide.
A listening ear through sleepless nights,
A steady hand in all my fights.
You taught me love, you taught me grace,
You held me in your warm embrace.
But I, your son, was not always kind—
I lost my way, left truth behind.
I broke your heart with foolish pride,
Got in trouble, chose to hide.
The law came knocking more than once,
And I played the part of the reckless son.
There came a time I wouldn't speak,
We went for months, or maybe weeks.
A silence deep, cold and wide—
The pain we both felt, hard to hide.
But love, it lingers, doesn't fade,
Even in the mess we made.
You never stopped, you never ran,
Still saw the boy behind the man.
And when the time was right, we talked—
On softened ground, together walked.
With tears and hope, we both forgave,
And chose to heal, not dig a grave.
You are my mother, my truest friend,
The one who stayed until the end.
For all the wrong, I made it through,
Because of love—because of you.
Scott W
At twenty-six, a gentle flame,
A golden heart, a glowing name.
With grace she walks, with light she stands,
A scholar's mind, with helping hands.
What once began with drinks and cheer,
Evolved into a bond so dear.
Not bound by blood, but something more,
A kindred soul I now adore.
She’s laughter in the darkest night,
She’s wisdom when the path’s not right.
An honour student, bright and true,
Yet humble in all that she’ll do.
You're brilliant, bold, and brave through all,
Yet still you answer every call—
To help, to serve, to be the one
Who shows compassion is never done.
Through tears and talks, the highs and lows,
She stayed—when few would dare or chose.
Understanding, patient, kind,
A rarer soul you’ll never find.
Though "fake" is what the title reads,
She fills so many real-life needs.
A daughter not by birth or name,
But loved all just the same.
So here's to her—this heart of gold,
With stories shared and hands to hold.
A special place she’ll always own,
In this old heart she calls her own.
Scott W
As we sit and type and stare at our screens.
At times we wonder what all of this means?
With our mouse we roam through poems like a maze.
Looking for something worthy of our praise.
We write of our hopes and tell of our woes,
Most of the time, not knowing where it goes.
We wait for the views and comments to see.
We try to share thoughts authentically.
Friendships begin with people we don’t know.
Some will flourish and continue to grow.
We freely give hugs and our blessings too,
And even sent soup mail to just a few.
Why is it on screen we can be so bold?
Telling our secrets that we’ve never told.
Why do we share the deep thoughts on our minds?
Others can see in through our opened blinds.
We have things to say and feel that we must.
So, we open our hearts to friends we trust.
To Poetry Soup friends, my family,
I have found the place where I’m meant to be.
Life is one long miraculous journey
If we’re lucky that’s the wait it is meant to me…
and today I’m grageteul for the family and friends
who are making this journey with me.
Finally, everything was made possible
From just 'You and I', to 'Groom and Bride'
By our beloved and precious families
We walked the aisle of the church with blessed smiles.
Friends and well-wishers, who always stayed along,
Who prayed and blessed our journey.
Grateful to everyone for being a part of our wonderful story.
This headache is killing me.
Beating through my skull, this throbbing pain.
It's so constant and that might be the worst part.
Sitting alone in my bed slowly dying
right in front of the ghosts.
They find it to be so disrespectful,
Me wasting my youth alone in the dark.
They judge me with scornful and familiar faces.
They almost, just almost, look like my friends and family.
So all pressure from their gazes hurt that much more.
But the pain never ends,
because even when they look away.
My head still hurts
Words both good or bad are very powerful,
bad words said are like a volcanic eruption to the soul.
Why do family and friends hurt each other,
do they not understand what it does to the other person ~
volcanic eruption of the soul takes place.
These painful words and actions are like hot lava,
hot lava running out from ones soul.
This volcanic eruption can only be stopped with love,
or by separation.
As I stand like a mountain tall and strong,
there will be no more hot lava volcanic eruptions of the soul.
Another family gathering
the place is packed with deep blue sadness
for the passing of yet another friend.
Faces are strained to the edge of recognition.
pretty bouquets garnish a garish metal basket
holy man staggers to capture the soul of a stranger
ancient chants spraying salt over those that remain.
Like a game of she loves me she loves me not
life is plucking off sweet petals one by one
Next time we gather there'll be one less
this puddle of infinite blackness
reaching the beat of the heart's sextant
Tossed off course, losing all sense of direction
and will continue to do so until I'm unblessed.
When the sad worldly din,
starts to close in-
I notice a dearth of humor,
the lightness of laughter
I seek after,
from the ministry of mirth.
Last Thursday my daughter told me
that week's food bill was $303,
we are a household of five,
we do our best to get by,
instead of a sigh and exasperated moan,
I busted out laughing once off the phone,
whilst watching the backyard squirrel's
acrobatics,
as they ate upside down from the
bird feeders, fantastic!
Global events and the home front too,
could make many of us full of rue.
Try to take some time,
in a jollity hour sublime.
Giggle with family, friends,
not everything has a morose end.
Sometimes our hearts are heavy
on this earth,
and we need more from the ministry of mirth. ~