Girl Poems | Examples of Girl Poetry

So much can change so quickly in a life. Love is the path, not a destination… When feelings become thoughts of “man and wife,” It takes blood and tears, and perspiration. We think this might be where we’ll always be, As peaks and valleys make us whine and groan. The road ahead is truly hard to see But hardships lighten when you’re...

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She loves to twirl and jump expressing without a care This is a girl that has big curly hair her eyes filled with life, makes me want to hug her with all my might. She can’t sit still, always has something to do Using her imagination, how I wish I could look inside too. She’s grown...

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You celebrate your Death-Day every year, a “selfie” trampling on your grave-to-be, without your knowing. Anniversary? Through predetermined locks you have to steer. As flotsam tumbles over each steep weir in transit to the dark and formless sea, you’ll pass the date of your finality repeatedly, before the end-of-pier. That day will dawn. It really will. The rows of serried numbers, rigid, unforgiving, that fill...

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Alcohol to numb the pains. Cigarettes to taste something other than hate. Sex to escape the constant loud voices in my head. Makeup to hide the broken girl inside. So put together, so stylish, so grown up and mature. Little did they know that girl was always manic, depressed, and anxious....

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I am the girl who loves too much. The one who bakes brownies instead of saying, "I miss you," because sometimes sugar feels safer than truth. The one who writes long birthday cards and sends postcards filled with drawings, because my words can be too heavy, but my heart refuses to stay silent. I fill pages with prayers, scribbled in hand-written cards with too...

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I'm o f f my f—e—e—t ~ when I see your d~~a~~n~~c~~e you're just so ...

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“It's a girl!” The female form, the rounded edges that soothe and nurture Shaped and created by gentle hands to fit a shoulder under a heavy arm Beast of burden I was formed this way and now I am bruised and soft from the many blows life has landed upon me As ages pass,we continue to strive to be...

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I remember when I got them They were only five days old Their lips were big, and their eyes were small And their tails were Orangie/gold I used to feed them twice a day Once in the morning and once at night And when it was time for them to go to bed I would turn...

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I woke up frightened, a girl lost in an abyss of terrifying dreams, Where sweat flows like a rain of stars on the sky of the endless night, I worry, for I used to not know fear when you were by my side, But now I feel the shadows of the world reaching silently for my soul, I wonder...

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Dear girl I’ve never met, Whether it’ll be planned or not, you’ll always be in my thoughts. Crazy romantic, chilled and laid-back — I hope it will go well. I’ll try my best to make you happy — I’ll call the shots. We’re gonna be singing, laughing, crying — I can tell. Dear girl I’ve never met, Every time I close my eyes, I start...

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Crown of gold curls in rainbow wrappers. Girly-girl, at two, favored to be beautiful. Eyelids delight to be painted baby-girl green. Dolly’s lascivious lashes soaked in black ink. Innocent strawberries dot baby-blue sleeveless top. Soon, she’ll be strapless, primping at the vanity. For now, she holds a mirror with her eyes closed; her reflection not quite perfected; a natural blush of lips, cherub-cheeks...

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Pretty Is a concept You'll never Understand If you think I see you Through endeavours Of the hand I love You make the effort Appreciate Your style I love you Past the surface Just deeper All the while You paint Just like a rainbow With hues and shades And stuff Yet beautiful Has found you Already You're enough...

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sunflower eyes, honeycomb gaze, symmetrical features, beautiful face. i want to get closer— to erase the space that exists between your surface level sex appeal and celestial grace. ...

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Having learnt the art from her mom, ...

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last night, i kissed the wine glass until it cracked from want. i wanted red—not wine. not again. the walls talked in their usual static, soft-lipped murmurs, muffled as a hand over a mouth. i pressed my cheek to the faucet and heard my mother crying through the pipes— or maybe it was me, thirteen years ago, learning how to disappear without moving. there’s a spoon in the bathtub. bent. like my will on sundays. i...

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