Long Motivation Poems
Long Motivation Poems. Below are the most popular long Motivation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Motivation poems by poem length and keyword.
empty inside
fear is a killer
it drive it victims
insane
it effects their creative
mind
killing the reality
of their dream
always showing them
the negative force
of life
the victims of fear
are always in torture
like always
empty inside
fear is a destroyer
it destroys a good
personality
it destroys the fruits
of your divine connection
to live
it destroys the true
colours if your sight
it plays no good
rule of success
inside it victims
it always leaves
nothing but torture
like always
empty inside
fear is deadly
it is a virus
it is also a weapon
used upon too many
innocent minds
no wonder the world
is controlled and ruled
with fears
no wonder the brutality
of life keep knocking
on our doors of hope
cos is obvious that
those that bleeds
In fears all over
the globe are
like always
empty inside
To be hopeful is to always believe,
To have faith and to not disbelieve,
To wont more from life than is given,
To strive for success to be driven,
To be hopeless is to give up the fight,
To extinguish that bright sparkling light,
It’s so easy to just lay down, give up,
To just run away and, cover it up,
It’s not always the easiest path way,
But having hope will make headway,
Dreaming of hope is just not enough,
You have to work at it and be tough,
Pushing yourself forward you’ll achieve,
There will be barriers but just believe,
Have faith in yourself, and your abilities,
Ignore the liabilities and impossibilities,
Believe in the opportunities, and positivities
Take advantage of all possible probabilities.
By Sarah Cope
Inspiration is something
That can be hard to sought.
But motivation it shall bring
When it is caught in thought.
Endless sources of it there
To broaden up your mind.
They are out there everywhere
Waiting for you to find.
Mindset is a primary factor...
Is yours willing to
Be open and play the extractor?
This is up to you.
What you know plays special forces
On this battlefield.
Imagination in its courses...
Make it unconcealed.
What are you into? What moves you?
What is it you desire?
Anything certain proves to
Be something to inspire.
People leading by example...
Places you have been.
Objects plentiful and ample...
All that you have seen.
Experience can play a role
And also what you learn.
Progressing towards a goal
As well as what you yearn.
These are just to name a few
Sources which do exist.
Everything comes down to you
And your will to persist.
I want to start by thanking all women for bringing balance and sensibility to our lives,
For embodying resilience and unconditional love (agápe).
Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers—of furries and Sapiens alike!
Because all life is connected, each sharing a piece of the Divine.
We all need agápe love from God’s chosen people—
The only humans who create life,
The only ones who build a connection with us before our eyes meet the light.
Do we call those who supplied ink to Mary Cassatt the painters?
As essential as they were, painters they were not.
Mothers love—
The kind that shields us mentally,
Protecting us from the scourges of this insidious yet redeemable world.
They are the guardians of life,
The shepherds of minds shaping the future.
In moments when our vision narrows into a tunnel,
Your euphonious voices guide us back with a tender reminder:
“What about the children?”
I extend a special thank you—
To my mother, who never gave up on me even when I was in the depths of despair.
To my Aunt Cora, who saw a man even when my actions were those of a boy.
To Tina, Mario’s mother, for raising a man embedded in the word of God.
To my cousins, who reminded me I was wrong
When my actions were filled with egotistical flaws.
To you all, and so many more, I am grateful.
This world was created by God,
But sustained and perpetuated by the love of its mothers.
So, on behalf of all life on this beautiful planet,
Even though sometimes it’s hard to see—
You are valued, like soil to a tree.
You are heard, as salubrious as morning birds.
You are beautiful, like vast stars in the nights sky.
Even though we sometimes rattle your nerves,
We are grateful for you all.
As Nietzsche said,
“You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.”
Happy Mother’s Day.
There is always a temptation to allow passion to become so close-
So I see any efforts to help as sabotage.
None of them think my passions make any sense.
Maybe that’s because I am trying to grasp at too many sparks.
Maybe I am scared that all my efforts can be undone by one person’s doubt.
So I keep those passions a secret that ends up dissolving.
So all I can do is leave behind pages of ramblings.
Ramblings that turn to secrets that will shatter if unturned.
It is sad that what they are noticing is not my motivation-
But instead they can sense me becoming more distant.
I can not allow my passion to be tainted by their advice.
Advice that I fear could be sabotage.
As they are all plotting my undoing.
When I write, it makes me happy, when I write, I am free,
as I could sit right down, and write all day you see.
Words aren’t easy, neither are they cheap,
for some words, our hearts decide to keep.
Good words, and bad words, written on a page,
sometimes filled with love, sometimes fueled by rage.
A writer knows, just the right words to use, you see,
as he uses his most sacred words, as a key.
Unlocking a new story for the world to read,
with his chosen words, hunger hearts he feeds.
It’s his words that tell a story, of time’s untold,
as he sits and writes, his story does unfold.
The writing, may not be his best,
as he sends his story out, to be put to the test.
For it’s the readers, they write for you see,
without the reader’s, where would the writers be?
Without the writers, what would a reader read,
seeds planted by the writer,
harvested by the readers need.
weakness and fears
on display
motivation
seems to fade
I mustn't lose sight
of the reason i fight
For my mind won't let me be
I am my own worst enemy
line the Target in my sight
Even though it's me I see
Pull the trigger I just might
I got to know
I must define
This substance unknown
that clogs my mind
I must find a way
got to find
what it is
i left behind
I'm afraid to say
The lengths I go
to keep you away
Access denied
You'll never know
This knowledge I hide
I cannot show
For your sake
my faith is unknown
what lies within
cannot be shown
This burden I bear
I bear alone
I dare not share
the fear I've known
with each passing day
my strength it fades
Struggle to keep
my rage in caged
The hate in me
mustn't see the light of day
As reality drifts further away
The darkness grows brighter
As the Light Of Hope
I desperately need
Gets harder and harder
for me to see
answers will come
and soon you'll see
Just Who I am
Now I know my destiny
Finally my mind is free
But I fear my time is near
Death will come and I will fall
I'll be the one
to save us all
3/13/22
The Toolbox
I chasten my tool box of woe
It harbored my imperfections
Screwdriver tighten my morals
Garden shear for tougher measures
Wrench that will grasp goodness within
Hammer to smash my wrongdoings
Scissors cut away my failures
Pliers to hold my character
Lock my virtuous surrender
Key my consent for it to be.
2020 May 16
My book, my writing, my novel starts today!
I will begin with I am not a writer, but I must write nevertheless here it is
Today I start
The house was looking sad, the garage door, the lawn, the trim all needed an update. Curb appeal cost money. To achieve this goal, it would take motivation and money. Motivation I could muster but the money was next to impossible. Yet if I had a lot of motivation the money would come.
When did motivation leave my being, after so many re-do's the consequence added up to nothing but rejection and pain, the soul void of love, desire? The weak minded learn the hard way. So no more risking pain. Work, home and occasional life events.
As my soul was disappointed with every fairytale ending. My motivation depleted, like the house sad no curb appeal.
We all watched the news in disbelief;
Horror stories of death and grief.
We sat in our homes, safe and sound;
All the while, it was coming around.
People just keep asking, "Why?"
Hearing it went global; still we deny.
Places closed- last the schools;
No big deal, if we bend the rules.
When it hit us here local,
Only then did people get vocal.
They say, "It's a lie, it's not real."
When they get it, will they say the same still?
Watch the numbers going up more each day;
Yet, we open up more places, anyway.
We know to get rid- will be no easy task,
Distance, Sanitizing, and wearing a mask.
The "Why's" are not a mystery,
If we look at pandemics in history.
Most of us never would have guessed,
That before technology became the best,
We had another pandemic, much like our death tolls.
Decisions then were not based on upcoming polls.
They fought long and hard, and finally overcame,
The 1918 pandemic that was much the same.
A century has come and gone since when,
Knowledge abundant we didn't have then.
Does not matter anyway, results can be just like,
Yet, daily we watch our case numbers spike.
We know to be rid- will be no easy task,
Distance, Sanitizing, and wearing your mask.
This should not be such a mystery,
If we learn from the pandemics in our history.
Fighting the mask every step of the way along,
Yet, when mandated, they wear them wrong.
"It is hard to breathe, " has been said,
No breathing now that you are dead.
Comfort is a notion not to conceive,
What will it take to make you believe?