Lost Hope Poems | Examples

These Lost Hope poems are examples of Hope poems about Lost. These are the best examples of Hope Lost poems written by international poets.


Premium MemberBroken Bench

I sat again on that old broken bench at the park,
Watching birds, people, and the last rays of the sun fade by,
Remembering our final words—spoken so far from kind.
A single tear I had to shed for the moments lost in time.
The skies turned suddenly ominous, though I knew not why—
But by the grace of God, a little girl smiled, ever so bright,
And I finally realized: forgiveness is not so far behind.


Premium MemberHope


a fragile bright thread
woven through the darkest night~
 light that dispels dread

soft whisper of dawn
chasing shadows from the soul~
sunshine on the lawn

seed beneath the frost
waiting for the gentle thaw~
life will not be lost

tear begins to dry,
a quiet strength starts to grow~
shine anew in sky

sunbeam on the path,
melting away winter's grip~
greens in aftermath 

a gentle warm breeze,
carrying a hopeful song~
worries start to ease

rainbow after storm,
colours painting skies anew~
peace begins to form

distant star's soft gleam
promising a warmer shore~
life`s journey still beams.

Premium MemberMy Last Last Chance

I remember a time when 
That heart of yours was mine
The love that you bestowed to me 
It's for that love I still pine

Every night before I go to sleep 
I make certain to always pray 
Each prayer I raise up to God 
Ask him to lead you home someday 

And when you appear at my door
And I'm giving my last last chance 
I'll love you in ways undreamed 
I'll give you the perfect romance 

You will feel a love unknown 
The way you deserve my love to be 
With the love I'll give to you 
You never want a day without me

Premium MemberFATHER TO ELDER SON: ONCE MORE AGAIN

FATHER TO ELDER SON: ONCE MORE AGAIN   

I am your father;
Let me not be a bother,
Nor your enemy:
Please come and visit with me;
My time here will soon not be:-

The compass of God,
Has never led one astray;
Satan’s does—each day:-
Be in God’s navigation;
And love’s resurrection:- 

Have mercy on me,
And forgive me for my sins 
Against God and thee:- 
Love you more than you can know; 
Forgive me before I go:-

Forgiveness of me
Is not about forgetting;
It’s about mercy:
For the pain you’ve given me, 
God knows, I’ve forgiven thee. 

I’ll die loving you,
I have lived life loving you:
God guiding me on:-
And as death takes me further,
Pray tell, greets from your brother:-

Premium MemberThe Day Has Come

Now entering the new season 
Gives the meaning 
Of the past life of old
Conquering the demons grasping hold
Knowing they were the reason 
Of a lost soul trapped in the abyss 
Breaking through, reaching heavenly bliss
I blow a kiss 
To God 
Waving back and forth his lightning rod
With the surrounding angelical squad 
I kneel and pray 
For giving me the continuous strengthening
Of a beating heart of cosmic gold 
To peel each journey and unfold 
Each harden lesson untold
The spiritual healing 
Is a wonderful feeling!


Premium MemberDry Well Plight

Pen pressed against page,
image drought, verse famine, cage,
of dry well syndrome, vacuum,
lack of glowing term,
blighted crop, devoid of germ,
words  I sculpt mere gaunt legume

Impetus, spark, boost,
urban mirror where plots roost,
spawn from pillar, striking  plinth,
futile quest struck dumb,
barren bard whose face is glum,
yet they bay for gemstone glint

Premium MemberFaith


 a free fervent feel
kindled by an unseen light~
friend that makes us heal 

a fragile thread spun
holds the unknown, whispers hope~
trust what not yet won.

sunlight through the clouds,
a sudden warmth upon the face~
winds dispel the shrouds.

doubt's chill breeze may blow,
testing the weave, stretching out~
still, the string does glow

night stollers alone
guided by a distant glow~
belief in unknown

seeds beneath the soil
unseen growth, a patient wait~
life shines through one`s toil

when all seems vanished
when the path is lost to sigh~
guiding faith cherished

a gentle whisper,
across the vast and silent space~
trust turning crisper.

more than simple verse
a living, breathing essence~
holds the universe.

Premium MemberAt the Gate

Once, you loved and welcomed me. 
Now, I'm at the gate. 

Once, there was peace and love.
Now, only vitriol and hate.

Once, there was democracy. 
Now, we tempt the hands of fate.

Once, there was infinity, 
Now, a sideways eight.

Once, there were hopes and prayers. 
Now, it is too late.

Once, there was eternity. 
Now, a headstone and a date.

Premium MemberThis too shall pass

When all seems lost the sun still rises ~



AP: 1st place 2026

Premium MemberLighthouse - Lost Gem of Hope

i was imagining the lighthouse 
on our East Coast. remembering it 
through clouds, past the shady thicket, 
above the cliff defaced by the dissident Atlantic;
out of the vegetative sprawl—
cooling mosses & menacing colossi
of agave plants—was your cold ivory 
marred by weathering, 
unconstrained saline breezes 
chewing & bleeding your iron. 
i pondered a rebuke. 
where are the carers
for this lost gem of hope,
to repay former kindnesses
as time races away with the picture
of your boast, vessels
& vagabonds who'd have fallen 
over inauspicious tides 
without your sleepless eye?

Premium MemberI Hope She Finds Happiness

The moon rises on the horizon 
Casting shadows in the dark 
Words still echoing in my ears 
Are like daggers to the heart 

The trees sparkle with fireflies 
A warm breeze tickles my face 
Like a slow motion shooting star 
I watch a satellite cross through outer space 

In the promise of another lonely night
The scent of her still lingers 
I can count the days since she drove away 
On one hand using all the fingers 

Memories are mostly pleasant 
The end appears abrupt 
Somewhere along the journey 
Our love became corrupt 

I know not where she sits tonight
Underneath the shadows of the same moon 
But, I hope she can find happiness 
And, I hope she finds it soon
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberOld Shoebox

The old shoebox still lies under his bed.
It brings a volley of thoughts to his head.
Within it lie the shoes he wore that day, 
When, lost his leg falling off a steep way.

A missing leg can never defeat him 
He will rise again from a state grim
In the stygian sky of hopeless dark,
A streak of a light glows like an arc.

Premium MemberWith Fingers Crossed, POTD

an aching
  silence abides 
 young love
   b
 e 
    c
        k  o   n
                    i  n g   b a c k
   once tenderness starved,
 t
u 
   s  s  l e s    t o
                         s
                        s
                   e
              d 
                 into                                       
love’s brutal
apex
warping sting, 
in bated
     breath’s requited ring,
wished upon the same star
in
each other’s resolves
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberA Pope And Hope

A Pope Brings forth hope But a kaiser Spews hate and horror A Pope Spreads peace In the north, south, west and east But a prideful mope like a squalid dope Spits horrors and terrors And starts fights and wars A peaceful person de-escalates But a belligerent bully booms, inflates And explodes like a lost missile Which acts like a cussed imbecile A real leader Never follows an oppressor Yet a follower is a master loser Who lies about everything Even when the sun is shining A Pope Offers love and hope But a loser displays no compassion No sympathy and no comprehension. Copyright © April 2016 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved. Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.

Premium MemberAwakening Hope

Another impoverished evening
 draped so strangely harsh, the moon weeps 
for one more burning a soul must retain.... 
And she clings among lost stars
 with frozen heartbeat thawing minutes 
weighed on jagged sounds of owl's play.

Yet, an intercepted light begins to kindle 
as she gazes at an old man by a lamp post, 
seemingly collecting crumbs of reminiscences-- 
The tick of hours mirroring her own disquiet
 while couples pause to catch a  flurry of mist:

She quivers, turns away from the glass pane 
listening to the teapot ... her meditative chant for now--
Till a discovery of self-awakening lifts gently
 Where a tiny place in her bosom invites calmness
 yet to be born ...
through growing roots of spirit- fire.

First Prize Premier

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