Long Push through Poems

Long Push through Poems. Below are the most popular long Push through by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Push through poems by poem length and keyword.


Special Needs Parent

A note to all the new parents of special needs babies?
Hello New Mom,
Congratulations, you are now part of a world where there is exquisite beauty.
Along with that beauty will come a hardship few can expound on. You are in the circle of a chosen few..... who become the warriors.
You will see and hear challenges you have not heard of.
You will beam with joy at the most basic skills accomplished. You will be the biggest fan EVER .
Your love for your child will endure you through all the tasks ahead.
You will be holding your breath without even knowing it and break into tears at the drop of the hat. You will think you just can't do it..but somehow you will find it in you to continue.
You will see your other children step up and advocate for their sibling and be better off because of it.
Your other children will astound you with their love and patience.
You will see the worst in humanity with stares and unkind words spoken and although it's extremely painful you will learn to push through at those times.
You will be their advocate forever.
You will be the fierce mama bear ready to swipe your claws at anyone who says "No" it just can't be done.
Each miniscule accomplishment your child masters is your accomplishment too.
The gentle pureness and childlike ways of your child will make your heart sing with joy.
You will get to know names of specialists like endocrinologist and speech pathologists and be waiting in Doctor offices more than you will want to.
You will learn of orthotics and how to use them.
You will become a Physical therapist and a Occupational therapist without the degree.
You will know that " failure to thrive" isn't so scary and you will learn to feed your child through tubes if it has to be done.
You will learn to depend on all the therapists and Special Ed. Teachers and learn to love them like your family.
You will learn along with your child.
You will know sadness and loneliness of a parent of a special needs child.
You will learn that there is a vast storage of knowledge and love and understanding with the seasoned parents.
Befriend them, join Facebook forums they are your support. Theses groups are strong because they hold each other up.
You will know love so deep and pure it amazes you.
You will become a proud parent and warrior of the most gentle soul you will ever have the honor to call your child.
Form: Ballade


Louisiana Branches

Strong like the waves that crash upon the shore
Deep as the river beneath a tossing barge
Long like the nights as we wait out the storms
And true as the love we have for the babes in our arms

The spirit of a warrior standing ready in his armor
The faith of a Pastor while comforting congregation members
The eyes of a mother that chooses to see only hope
And the strength of a father protecting his family's home

Louisiana's children, up until the end---
Prove over and over that our Faith won't be bent
We've adapted and created our ways of living
Picking up the pieces when Mother Nature comes at us again

We hurt when she hurts and bare the brunt 
Of the forces she spews and the courses she runs
Her anger we feel in the gusts of wind
Her joy we receive during those summer's that won't end
Bliss she shows us on the perfect spring days
Just as we catch her tears when she lets go the rain
She's made our skin tough through the breath she shares
Humid and dense in our heavy air

Just as she can let go the wrath of a jilted Queen
We use the lessons she's instilled in us to conquer defeat
She may send down the rains and conjure lightening to match
And we may hear her anger in her thunderous clap
She may push through a wind to show us once more
And let loose all her might with a powerful storm

But she forgets, Mother Nature, you see
That her past runs through you and it runs through me
A direct line has been made, like the Mississippi to the Gulf
Her ways have led us to know just what we're made of
For through the years and down the lines
Cajun Country's people have risen each time
Our defenses may be a direct result of her hands
But our spirit we derive from our place on this land
And Mother Nature may be an ever present influence
But we're children of Louisiana and that means we'll always come through it

Rooted in this soil, in the heritage it holds
Grateful and honored for the blessings we've been bestowed
Generations as far back as one could see
Our ties are just as bound as these ancient Cypress trees

Rise up Louisiana with the dawning of new light
May your pain be healed and hearts filled with might
And as the last bit of dew dries up with the sun
Feel the embrace of your family in this rooted home you stem from
Form:

THE SILENT BATTLE

In the stillness of night, I find myself alone,
A young soul with dreams, but fears have grown.
I’m caught in a struggle, a war in my mind,
Wondering if I’ll make it, or be left behind.

My heart is heavy, with memories of the past,
She left me for another, a pain that won't pass.
Her betrayal cuts deep, it echoes in my head,
A love that once lived, now shattered instead.

My parents look to me with hope in their eyes,
They need my help, but I feel paralyzed.
How can I support them when I’m so lost?
Their dreams rest on me, but what’s the cost?

I’m surrounded by temptations, I fight every day,
Addictions that pull me, leading me astray.
I battle within, trying to stay strong,
But some days it feels like I’m getting it wrong.

I’m the hope for my family, their light in the dark,
But these responsibilities leave a deep mark.
Their expectations weigh me down, push me near,
And I wonder how long I can hold back my fear.

I reach out to God, but He feels so far,
Like a distant whisper, a faint glimmering star.
I pray for guidance, for strength to carry on,
But the silence is deafening as nights drag on.

I believe there’s a purpose for which I was born,
Yet doubts and fears leave my spirit torn.
The pressure is mounting, it’s hard to stay afloat,
As I carry the weight of the world in my boat.

The past haunts me, it won’t let me go,
But my dreams keep me moving, they’re all I know.
Will I make it in life? It’s a question I bear,
But I keep moving forward, despite the despair.

The subjects I study push me to my limit,   
At the finest school, my efforts feel infinite.
I strive for success, though the path is steep,
Hoping that one day, the rewards I’ll reap.

Frustration lingers, like a cloud in my mind,
Will I ever win, or be left behind?
The past weighs me down, but I won’t let it last,
I’ll keep pushing forward, not dwell on the past.

Tomorrow holds hope, a light in the dark,
A promise of joy, a fresh, new spark.
I believe I can make it, though the road is tough,
In the end, I’ll find my strength is enough.

So I rise each day, ready to fight,
I’ll push through the pain, and reach for the light.
For deep down I know, I have what it takes,
And one day soon, I’ll rise above the stakes.

Dr King

The question so many have asked 
What are we doing for others ?? 
Are we making a change 
Are we letting? What was work so hard to go in vain?
We used to have morals 
We used to have a heart 
This world ?? is slowly falling apart 
We used to look out 
For one another 
We use use to be able to depend on our sister and brother
Seems like everything now has become a competition 
From the beginning ?? to end 
Seems like no one wants to  see anyone win 
Friends turning on friends 
We really got to get it together 
Young people no longer  respect the elders 
So many things happening on the day to day basis 
So many families with crying faces 
Talking it out and communicating seems like it's no longer a thing 
Did we really listen to his dream ?? 
I meant Dr Martin Luther King 
Did you listen to him 
Did you hear him out 
He wanted to make a change 
Didn't do it for clout 
He made a way for a new to way to begin 
We got to figure it out 
He had a vision 
He saw it through 
He tried to make the world better for me and you 
Sacrifices were made 
By our tribe 
Believe it or not 
You can still thrive 
It was also said 
"One day we will learn that the heart can never be totally right 
When the head is totally wrong " 
We have to push through 
And become tough and strong 
Right your wrongs 
Make your wrongs back right 
Do it for you, continue to fight
Don't fight with your hands fight with the knowledge you've learned over time 
Create new visions 
See them out this time 
Dream big 
No matter how hard it seems 
DR.KING also said "no one has the right to rain on your dreams ."
We shall overcome 
We have overcame 
We shall walk hand and hand 
For we are all the same 
Color doesn't define 
We are all one of a kind 
Theres so much more that I  could say 
Thanks Dr King for paving the way 
Little girls and little boys 
You guys are the future 
Dream big 
Don't stop 
Give it all you got 
And if you can give a little more 
Acts of service are always an open door 
Doesn't matter if it's a smile or a helping hand 
Be a part of a great plan 
We salute ?? 
Yes we do
Thank you Dr King 
For all you've done 
We celebrate you today 
Job well done .

Written by Concetta Hardnett 
01/20/2025

They Told Me

They told me
only one month left
that was two months ago.

They told me
do it right the first time
and it won't happen again
yet here we are.
AGAIN.

They told me
push through
and you'll get to where you want to be,
but I want to be in the game
not on the side.

They told me
it's only a "blip" in this thing called life,
but how come this "blip"
feels like an eternity?

They told me
just be normal,
but how can I be normal
when they convince me I'm broken?

They told me
that I wasn't good enough.
That I wasn't strong enough.
That I wasn't enough.

They told me
that I wouldn't even get a chance.
No chance to be considered.
No chance to be looked at normally.
No chance to not be "the broken one".

They told me to push myself
harder
and harder
and harder
and eat less
you're too fat
and eat more
you're dying
and workout more
you're out of shape
and workout less
you're too strong
and smile more
you're not pretty without it
and stop smiling
you're ruining the picture
and wear less make-up
you look pathetic
and put more make-up on 
you look ugly
and get no sleep
you have to study
and go to bed sooner
then you're not tired
and don't disappoint me
or you can't go out anymore
and hang out with friends more
you're antisocial and...

They told me
push harder and I'll get there but I've been pushing for
1 year
11 months
5 days
14 hours
and 13 minutes
and I'm still stuck here.

They told me
"i'm here to listen",
but if anyone really was
I wouldn't be stuck in a black hole.
ALONE.

They convinced me
that I was broken.
That I was nothing.
That I was disposable.

Then
she told me
I am special.
I am important.
I am not broken,
but it is taking a lot of convincing
and she is patient.

She told me
that I am strong.
That I am worth it.
That I am amazing.

She told me
that she is always there to listen
when that is all I need,
and she has been.

She told me
that she isn't leaving,
and even though
I have given her many reasons to leave
she has stayed
when others would have left.

She told me 
that she cares about 
ME.
That she believes in
ME.
That she loves
ME,
and that is all I will ever need.


Death By Words

I am me but it isn't enough.
 The kids at school don't like me too much.
 My family's poor; I can't afford nice clothes.
 All of my socks have holes in the toes.
 I have 2 pairs of jeans I wear every other day.
 I try keeping them new but they won't stay that way.
 I like different music but they think it's whack.
 Being Black, I should only listen to R&B and rap.
 I'm very good at school because I'm very smart
 But they try to hurt my feelings by calilng me a retard.
 They say that I am stupid and they also call me dumb.
 They say that I will never amount to be anyone.
 They push me in the hallway trying to pick a fight.
 Sad and depressed, I push through with all of my might.
 The girls talk about me on Facebook and the guys find it funny.
 They talk about my appearance and how I am so very ugly.
 I hold my head up at school but at home I always cry.
 They talk about me daily and I really don't know why. 
I'm too black, too tall, too smart, too poor...
 All I want to do is disappear through the floor.
 They don't know I'm funny, nice, kind, and sweet.
 They'd prefer to talk badly about me to everyone they meet.
 Am I too scared to face them and say what's on my mind?
 Or maybe I'm not mean enough because I am too kind...
 I try to listen to my teachers who advise me to walk away
 But my bullies follow me to torment me every single day.
 My grades start dropping because I can no longer focus.
 I get in trouble at home because education is a must.
 All I want to do is go to school without getting picked on.
 All of this external negativity is making me withdrawn.
 I used to be so happy and now, I don't know what that is.
 I have no idea how much more I can take of this.
 I hate how I've given them the power on how to make me feel.
 They've caused scars so deep that I wonder if I will ever heal.
 Why did God make me so different? Why am I so disliked?
 I just want to be pretty and cool so that I can be liked. 
I'm tired. Tired of hurting. Tired of being scared. Tired of crying.
 I feel small pieces of me slowly and constantly dying.
 No one to talk to because no one understands.
 Now I am no more and it's caused by my own hands.
 The kids at school didn't like me too much.
 I tried to be me but it wasn't enough.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Found It

I alone found the courage to push through
In my eyes everyone saw suicide written
It's pedantic to say I wanted to cut my wrists
When I'm tired of the manic romanticism
It's divvied out like communism but I'm a serf
Who's a slave to his own ambitions
Because with every poem, every verse, every stanza
I look for the line to take me higher
To transcend all the poetic duds
And sometimes I'm a little emotional
Because this written stuff is all I have
I used to look at it with childlike wonder
Now I gaze at it with adult apathy
Feeling like my creative spark died
Like every line is an illusion
Hiding something greater
But I can't seem to find it
So I sift through the misery 
Hoping that fuel can keep me writing
When it feels like I suffer so I can write
Rather than writing because I suffer
But I'm too busy holding on to dead ends
And women I don't have a chance with
I take that anguish, that angst, and that anger
And I power my poetry to infinity
Even if it's for zero comments
And increasingly smaller view counts
I know the shadow was lifted
And I defeated the demon called depression
But in this post-depressive world I'm lost
Not knowing how to channel my feelings
And all the things I'm dealing with
I swear, I swear I just want to be happy
To look in the mirror and find something to love
But all I see is that lost child in me
Who never had a friend to say it's okay
Who never had a place to belong
And I push through that pain
So I can attain some sense of gains
Because I know I can't regress
This is what progress looks like
Disjointed verse with a burst of emotion
I'm devoid of devotion to move oceans
But believe me when I say I found it
That little reason to push through
And truth be told it was in the mirror all along
I saw myself for the very first time
And saw a beautiful soul
Struggling to shine through the grime
And day by day it'll shine brighter
Until all the muck is finally gone
Because if nobody else will love me
I might as well love myself
And this verse might not be pretty
That's okay though
Because I'll take the ugly truth
And shine it up real nice
Because an ugly truth trumps a pretty lie
I'm just angry it took me 28 years
To find it

My 8 Year Old Self

Is she proud of me?
Is she proud of me that i continued on like she told me too?
Is she proud of me?
Because i did what she asked me to do.
I moved on. 
Through the tough and the fuss.
I put some sass in my step and walked through everything with my head high.

Is she proud of me?
My 8 year old self.
The one that was beat and used.
The one that laid starving on her bed, begging for help while he.... touched her.

Is she proud of me for turning 17 and almost graduating school?
Is she proud of me for standing up for myself when my father hits me?
Its what she wanted me to do.
To stand up for myself when someone lays a hand on me.
To protect myself at all cost because no one else ever will.

Is she proud of me? 

Hey, if you are, thank you.

I bet you wanna know that i stand up for myself now.
I bet you wanna know that our little brother also stands up for me.
I bet you wanna know that someone finally loves me.
I bet you wanna know that... i have anxiety attacks and panic attacks....
I bet you wanna know that i almost killed myself a few times cause of what happened to us.
I bet you wanna know that the family still hates me..
Yeah... I have to pretend to be happy just like them. 
Remember when you would want to hang out with them but once you walked into the same room as them they got quiet and didn't talk till you left?
They still do that... 
They laugh louder and talk more when im not around just like they did with you.
But i bet you wanna know whats been going on.
Our little brother and i are best friends again. We are inseparable again and without each other we are like a flower without the sun.
I bet you wanna know that there is this guy that actually likes us.
Yes i told him everything.... and i mean everything..
But he accepts us. 
I bet you wanna know what he feels like and what he looks like...
haha me too. 
I'm turning 18 soon... I'm sure you are proud of me..
Im sure of it cause you wanted me to move on and prove them wrong.
You wanted me to push through it all and live a better life.
And trust me i will, i will. We deserve that much at least, right?
I know you are proud of me. Thanks for making me take that promise.

 To: my 8 year old self.
Form:

Secret Garden

Tentative rose thorns graze my skin as I push through the plant-walled garden
They neither break skin nor draw those secret white lines across it
Lillies of the valley wonder where their valley has gone when they realise they are on
flat land
Their delicate white petals stare at the clouds which gather like ants to an amberule of honey
I can feel the rain on the air, it clothes me in a heavy gown of foreboding and expectation
The birds who once called across the garden to their avian lovers silently flutter home
In the tall birches and oaks and evergreens, in the bright aboreal verendace, their world
I walk through a stream which has trickled and will trickle for ages, 
patiently it cuts away the tarnished granite bed, deeper and deeper,
Tiny frogs leap away in instinctive terror, my feet suddenly transformed into evil monsters,
and as I step out of the stream bed, I wonder where all the butterflies have gone when I
see a moth
With spanning black wings as dark as night, edged with gold as bright as the sun,
its antennae are feathery and magnificently plume the insect's noble head, a crown above
all crowns,
Its six legs are carried tightly under its richly-furred black body, little dagger-glows
sheathed,
I reach out a hand as tentative as the rose thorns, and the moth plays with me,
taunting me with its nocturnal majesty, with its iridescent wings, with its reflective eyes,
To my eternal satisfaction the lordly moth alights upon my fingers, 
and I wince as its claws grip my tightly, it folds in its wings, its royal robes of office,
The golden filligree glitters and the soft pixie dust all moths carry falls unnoticed onto
my hand,
Body quivering, I see the unmistakable mark across its elegant wing-shape; 
death's head, a human skull, remnant of a past life,
laughing at me in my folly, 
the lordly insect takes flight, leaving my with the sliently roses, the apathetic lillies,
the meandering stream, to contemplate the incomprehensible
and I breathe in the dust of the moth,
forgetting butterflies had ever existed, for the death's head 
rules the secret garden day and night
and now I understand these things, 
which only the whispered languages of the garden could say.

BE GLAD

I'm glad for it's a beautiful day
For it's a day for a new beginning
To restart but more aware than yesterday
I'm glad I made it
For it's a day our God as made
So i'll rejoice and be glad in it
Even amidst circumstances
Gratitude is a gateway
For more, to be happy
Is to be free from external outcome

I am glad for breath without stress
I breath in life from source
Out life for plants

I'm glad, for love
I find lovely people allover me
Showering on me unconditional love
Elevating and awakening me to the truth

I'm gad, for the roof over my head
God blesses the source of creativity
I would have been sleeping on the streets

I'm glad, for I have clothes to wear
To  cover the scars of life
Uncovers the beauty to be portrayed

I'm glad, for I have food to eat
Surviving here is not easy
while thriving and striving
In Africa, Nigeria to be precise

I'm glad, for I am healthy
Healthy without medicines
the remedy for another illness
A apple, a day away from the doctor

I'm glad, For companion
I always find company in my path
Making my journey worthwhile

I'm glad, for the living
Respect the dead 
Support the living
As it's not easy to be outcast
So, it's not easy to strive

I'm glad, when they said I can't do it
I am possible, nothing impossible 
Whatever I put my minds to
I always push through

I'm glad, for water
The source of life
To drink
To bath
For cleaning clothes 
And more

I'm glad for the sun
The source of light
In the day
healing absorbed energy
From others 
It helps me dry my clothes

I'm glad for the moon
The source of magic
The light at night
The womb of earth

I'm glad for the stars
They makes the galaxy beautiful
Makes a lot of memories
While stargazing

I'm glad for the nights
I find time for myself again
Time to ease on me
From all the stress
Caused by the day

I am glad for the 
Blessings I can't see
Post but can feel
On the way

Be glad so 
You don't get depressed
Over life issues
Others opinion
Unknown


Be glad, for there's always
Something to be grateful for
If not LIFE!?
Be grateful for God
For the sun as risen
Because nothing
Is above our Father 
Almighty in Heaven
Form: Epigram

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