Legacy Poems - Poems about Legacy

ADAM LEGACY 4 A planet that was full of bountiful resources Destroyed by the ones chosen to care for it A darkness decended upon it named greed Man didn't realise that he hunger for poison Layer by layer, he scraped by what was healthy Even the food that was found very unhealthy Gold and all kinds of precious weren't edible After...

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They told us our skin meant exile That our joy would be put on trial Because it brings rain But how can they hate the rain when it nourishes the ground we walk on The same ground that grows the food we need to survive They want us to cower in the face of their Whiteness To bow down to their...

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May we be blessed as parents to know… when thinking about our legacies… We can hand down houses, cars and money to our children but the greatest legacy we can leave them are happy memories. ...

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Inspired to share my knowledge, Dedicated to teach with courage, I gave my service with all my heart— In my students' lives, I played an important part. Three decades of guiding the young, These are my riches, the songs I’ve sung. I may be a candle burning low, But the light I gave will always glow. Proud to shape each growing mind, And when...

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"A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language." (W. H. Auden) They sit in their glass-paneled chambers, these judges, tuning their ears to the hum of silicon— eyebrows raised at every metaphor too deft, too dressed, too drenched in sense. Who wrote this? they ask, tapping screens that blink like oracles but lie like...

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I’m on your lap in a photo I no longer have— a toddler with a borrowed brush, my hand caught mid-daub on your canvas. It was staged, of course— your painting for a calendar on the easel in front of us like the month you gave me a tool of your craft and I mistook it for permission— but my brush didn’t paint like yours. Sometimes I wonder if you...

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M-ind A-nything E-ars C-atch A-ttentively, S-o T-he I-deas L-imitlessly L-ive O-n ©bfa052525 Monocrostic (Birthday of Mae Castillo) ...

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Dad passed away before I became a man A man whom he had found a wife A wife to build life with to mature Mature as she gives me cute kids Kids I have to toil for day and night Night when I think deep about life Life generating thoughts for solutions Solutions to life's current challenges Challenges strengthening my heart Heart residing...

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Quyeer times emit blazing signs..And some ex-boy friends? Is this karma divine? mi5 say its Putin..' a prime topic for Them...And its taken a fortnight with henceforth..No why Where or whens..From them.' Yet it seems rather sloppy to Be (a Russian affair?) And arson too primitive.' I think thats Quite fair.? Just an ass-umption.' To try to open the...

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When I look into my grandmother's eyes I see what she's had to sacrifice When I look into my grandmother's eyes I see a lifetime of pain she's carried When I look into my grandmother's eyes I see the hurt of not being accepted When I look into my grandmother's eyes I see Someone who once despised her beautiful...

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My father never hit me-- he just taught me how to burn. Taught me silence was safer than softness, that anger was armor and kindness a weakness someone would use. I watched him carve the word weak into everything he feared, watched him drown my brother’s voice, cut my mother’s name from the air. Hate was our heirloom. Polished like silver. Passed down like gospel. I almost gave it...

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Floral loveliness greets chateau guests with gorgeous blossoms Aroma of these plants bring nature’s best into the stone courtyard Martha’s legacy has survived the continuum of time Walter watches families collect their breakfast There is happy laughter and wide smiles, this is a sacred place He knows the guests can feel his angel, even if they cannot see her He pretends...

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I. The Hour of Approach The poem I was writing refused to end— it kept writing me. Blood didn't ink these lines— the ink bled me. Each stanza a hidden-hematoma across the white of nothingness. Somewhere, midnight faltered, and I was no longer alone. II. Visitation: Sylvia Plath Sivvy came barefoot, bees orbiting...

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All that you'll leave behind for me are your memories The legacy of a story that was ill-fated from the beginning You have somebody else, but my heart still screams your name in silence Who will I think of when I’m being feasted upon by my ghosts? Your memories will soon join them—and eat me alive. I don’t want to...

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I stumbled across the notice today, A name familiar from back in the day. A high school face, blurred by time’s gray brush, Yet his story recalled, stirring thought’s hush. Achievements listed, milestones carved in stone, A life in bullet points, a legacy alone. Still, beyond the words, the essence remained, A question lingered—how will mine be framed? I traced other obituaries, lives...

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