Power Girl Poems | Examples
These Power Girl poems are examples of Girl poems about Power. These are the best examples of Girl Power poems written by international poets.
She was the rain
He was the thunder
And together they were an unstoppable storm
Both activists in their own form
Both doing what they were made for
A duo who held a power that could destroy A system
Meant only to break them
Built to control them
Her voice was fire
Loud and unforgiving
His mind was like ice
Cold and calculated
She was outspoken
She lead the protests
Whilst he wrote the speeches
This was their dynamic
This made the racist world panic
And that's exactly what they wanted
They knew their power
They knew what triggered their envy
They knew the secret to unlock their weakness
And that was their blackness
So together they openly loved themselves
They knew it would cause them to become overwhelmed
Something they couldn't take
So instead they decide to hate
To mask their envy
To repress their inferiority
And replace it with false superiority
To hide their insecurities
For as long as we love our blackness
It will forever be our shield To protect us
From the darkness that lurks within the racists
Who will forever burn in their hatred
And scarred By jealousy
Giggling and playing hopscotch
Indigo dreams of being a star
Running wild before training bra
Laughter and smiles come from heart
Pigtails and bikes dolls and skates
Onyx starry nights by the lake
Whimsical dreams esteemed out loud
Emerald queens and all girls scouts
Ready to live learn camping out
In the neon glow of the midnight skies,
She dances through dreams, where her spirit flies,
In her deepest fantasies, she finds her spark,
Unlocking the secrets that dance in the dark.
She’s a queen in the mirror, fierce and divine,
With every heartbeat, she reclaims her shine,
What a girl wants, what a girl needs,
Is the fire within her that love truly feeds.
With a rhythm that pulses, her heart takes the lead,
In a world of her making, where no one can impede,
Who does she become when the night calls her name?
A goddess of passion, igniting the flame.
She’s the dreamer, the lover, a force to behold,
In her wildest desires, she’s daring and bold,
What a girl wants, what a girl needs,
Is the strength to awaken the power she breeds.
So let the beat drop and the music ignite,
In a tapestry woven of dreams and delight,
What a girl wants, what a girl needs,
In her journey of self, she’s planting the seeds.
Ah, you are so young still,
too tender to see how the storms are shaping you.
These trials—though heavy now—
are quietly teaching you how to rise.
Do you know, even now,
you are already on the right path?
One day, you will stand fierce—
undaunted, unbroken—
no matter what life dares to place in your way.
Your strength is already blooming.
Blue rivulets of vein on the inside of her wrist,
That shallow valley between her hip
And the bottom of her belly,
The inside of her knee
Where her calf met her thigh,
I remember this girl.
Like the fury of a thousand suns
I remember her.
This woman’s power
To point a finger, or wave a hand,
Disintegrate a life,
Or plot the course of futures.
A simple “yes” or “no”
To open the gates of paradise
Or expel you to the cavernous blackness
Of endless empty space
In place
Of where she stood.
In the heart of night, a starry spark,
Shining bright, leaving a mark.
Black girl magic, fierce and bold,
A story of strength, yet untold.
With skin like onyx, rich and deep,
History's treasures they do keep.
Their laughter, music to the ears,
Resilient through the ages, through tears.
In every step, a rhythm strong,
A legacy of love, an ancestral song.
Dreamers, leaders, breaking chains,
Rising above, defying pains.
Black girl magic, pure and true,
A radiant force, always anew.
In every smile, in every glance,
A dance of power, a timeless dance.
With wisdom ancient, hearts afire,
Building empires, climbing higher.
Black girl magic, let it be known,
In every corner, it has grown.
Teardrops
My Teardrops
By: Ashley Marie
My teardrops fall like the rain, coming down out of the sky. My tear drops fall for so many reasons, that I don’t talk about. My teardrops fall like the stars at night. My tears come out of no where. I hate crying because I never can figure out why I am crying have of the time. My tear drops have been falling for so many years now. My teardrops are here to stay as long as you are gone away from me. The more that my teardrops fall the more I miss you.
My teardrops.
By: Ashley Marie Gilchrist
All the dust upon our rolled up sleeves
makes us kids seem dirty and in desperate need.
I don’t know about you but I’m pretty damn clean.
This dust you sneeze on is just a part of me.
Wipe it off if you must
But my heart still beats covered in that star dust.
If you think I’m dirty, if you think I’m marred,
I’ll be the first to admit, I am rather scarred.
But that isn’t ugly and that isn’t rare,
Us star dusted kids often seem bare,
of inhibitions and nonsensical rules.
Too bad that makes you view us as fools.
You can wipe me clean and bathe my body in your tub of purity.
But honey, I ain’t no fool, scared or confused,
I’m just a star dusted girl whose soul’s a little bruised.
Girl against being generalized
Look out here comes my generation.
The ones who are gonna reclaim a nation,
Spreading truth meant to be realized.
What lovely lies,
What harsh goodbyes,
You owe nothing,
But yet they beg for just one something,
Faced with despair,
Let faith prosper,
Failure is not an option,
In two days you may be homebound
But it's been fourteen since silence and no sound,
In the mind you may be tired,
We have been up fired,
There is no expectations,
And all we have left is imagination,
Thoughts and creations,
Hoarding relations,
It is cruel,
But what to do when there really are no rules,
Lier, lier, hold no power,
To you it means nothing,
To others it's meant to be understanding,
That no words can compare to the actions you are condoning,
Just say it out, the silence,
feels like it's turning to violence,
Hatred is beginning,
As love is diminishing,
But they still hold on,
They try to stay strong,
Ode to being home bound.
The painting of "The Sick Child" by Edvard Munch (1863-1944)
was painted in 1907, oil on canvas, 46.4 inches by 47.2 inches
or 3.8 feet by 3.9 feet. Edvard painted what stirred his mind, and
this art piece touches my soul, it is one of six of the same scene.
It is painted in thick layers, in vertical strokes and has a hazy
feel and an emotional power. We are sharing a scene that is the
veil of Edvard's memory, the death of his sister, Johanna at fifteen.
The suffering girl is propped up on a pillow, she seems poised to me .
As the girl looks to the side perhaps looking at death coming, a
mourner clutches her hands, a woman maybe a family member.
I feel a loving bond in the anguish of the bowed head and despair.
The painting captures the ravage of disease, it is a haunting scene.
The use color and style is Expressionism, pigments of white, marine
and vermillion red, ochre, emerald green, yellows, and cobalt blue
can be detected. Oh, that thick blanket must be so warm and heavy.
I feel the girl's pain, and the acceptance of her death, her emptiness.
As we await His second coming
We know not who we look for
As we speak, He walks among us
But as yet closed is our heart’s door
From paintings, movies and dreams
We carry a mental image in mind
But is He a being so limited and bound
Who in narrow church pews we’ll find
Jesus visits the so called fallen atheist
And finds within his heart pure light
Made in God’s image, a child asleep
Who’s yet to awaken to spherical sight
So Jesus takes the hand of his brother
Wake up, He urges, life is but a dream
Love alone is real, light the flame of bliss
Rest where no fears and desires stream
Jesus becomes vast space, that holds all
It’s the first thing we see, right before us
Look not for forms and images, oh hermit
In childlike trust, get aboard Gods bliss bus
There is no judgment, sin is but ignorance
All of existence is entwined by God’s power
Know that we are living light, not this form
Surrender and let His benign grace empower
26-April-2023
She was a woman of beauty and grace
With a heart that longed for a lover's embrace
Her marriage was dull and devoid of desire
But a new flame ignited a passion that was dire
He was a man of power and charm
With eyes that sparkled with a dangerous alarm
Their affair was a secret, a forbidden delight
A love that burned with a passion so bright
She found in him what her husband lacked
A passion that filled her with a love so intact
Their stolen moments were like a dream
A love that was pure, or so it seemed
But the truth would soon come to light
A betrayal that shattered her with all its might
Her husband discovered her infidelity
A discovery that would end in tragedy
Her lover was gone, her heart torn apart
A love that was pure was now a painful remark
Her marriage was over, her life in despair
A love that was lost, beyond any repair
She learned too late that love can be a curse
A passion that consumes and leaves nothing but hurt
Her heart was broken, her soul in pain
A love that was lost, forever in vain.
To the girl who lost her magic
biting on quivering lips,
your eyes are so tragic;
In the mirror Fey behind you,
light a fire with that matchstick;
Remember their majesty,
ignore every nonbeliever’s logic;
Power flies in those fingertips,
all wings and gossamer fabric.
She was a dancer
She said it was all okay
The power was hers