Acceptance Self Poems | Examples
These Acceptance Self poems are examples of Self poems about Acceptance. These are the best examples of Self Acceptance poems written by international poets.
I look at my soul killing its flaws. I appreciate it and let it do so. But when I came back to earth to show them a perfect human, I realized my mistakes made me who I am. Without my flaws, I am just a perfect human—but not me.
Her soul was starved of acceptance
An aching hunger wanting to be fed
Her body weak
Not from the lack of food
But for the lack of love for her skin
Being black meant a life where no matter what she did
She would never win
She couldn't control her race
But she could control her body
She wanted to be invisible
And the only way she could make that happen was to disappear
Her body, her skin, her mind
A place of imprisonment
But she could control how she decorated it
To her that felt like a rebellion
Even if it meant she lost herself
Deep down she knew this wasn't right
But she just didn't want the fight
She was willing to make that sacrifice
With every meal skipped
She got weaker and weaker
Not realising how she was getting closer to death
Mistaking it for freedom
She had got everything she wanted
Just not how she expected
She realised a little too late
How true this statement was
The world wanted her gone
And she had finally given them what they want
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
tell me the truth, tell me all.
The passing of youth,
and of dreams young.
Reverence for the truth,
songs of the heart, freely sung.
I see the happy days of innocence,
the fond memories of childhood.
The unquestioned acceptance
of all things pure, all things good.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
show me the truth, show me all.
Remembrance of days bygone,
of the pristine, unscarred beauty.
Now a face haggard and drawn,
battling the weight of duty.
I see love greatly returned,
accumulated over the years.
The wisdom painfully earned,
the laughter through the tears.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Reveal the truth, reveal it all
The creases yet to form,
shadows that'll cloud my eye.
To age slowly as per the norm,
morphing, changing, till I die.
I see in all things yet to be done,
the promise of the days to come.
And, in the last setting of the sun,
I see the person I've become.
Museums
A place full of stories
Of art
Not just in the paintings
But in the people too
A little black girl walking hand in hand with her mother
Her eyes lit up in wonder
Wandering what she would discover
While she walks around
Spinning around
And jumping up and down
She doesn't see
That everytime she jumps the light reflecting on her beautiful brown skin makes it glimmer
Like little flecks of gold placed exactly
Like when the sun reflects a river
She doesn't see
The way her beaded braids move
Eagerly trying to catch up with her
Dancing in excitement
Enjoying this moment
Wishing she could forever stay this innocent
She shines like a diamond
She doesn't see
Her warm chocolate eyes
The way the brown melts peoples hearts
Her eyes alone could be artwork
An artwork that could instill innocence in every person It meets
Her eyes A superpower
That could bring people together
Just before she leaves
She looks at a final art piece
And for the first time she sees -
"Mommy it's me"
It was called the art of the reflection in the mirror
And when she looked in it she felt prettier
living in my truth without hesitation or regret
dispelling lies and betrayal that I surely outwit
living in my truth without malice revenge or hate
forgiving all of you that think you control my fate
living in my truth there's no other way I rather be
no masking accepting all of me so now I am free
living in my truth that I am not for everybody
no expectations or validations from anybody
living in my truth without carrying past trauma
steering clear of heartless envious peoples drama
living in my truth expressing the arts of my heart
internally creating works in different genres of art
living in my truth and purpose to live love laugh
authenticity compassion not learned from a graph
living in my truth allows me to sometimes just be or do
allowing the rhythm of life is why I have a bold bright hue
allow self love
be the flame
that light the
wick within
allow true love
be the energy
to keep the spark
so flame stay lit
accept your true self
for the protection
of that flame
that burn endlessly
I am a girl with densely haired arms.
In school, classmates would exclaim upon seeing my arms,
"Oh my gosh, how can you have so much hair on your arms!"
"Kiwi girl! Haha"
I looked at my own arms, then at the arms of other girls.
Their arms were smooth and bright,
While mine were like unpeeled yam sticks.
Fine, dense hairs scattered in every direction,
A gust of wind could even make them change course.
I gently brushed my left arm with my right hand,
Though not touching the skin,
I startled the little hairs,
Feeling a tickle.
So I raised my arm to observe it against the window.
Hey—they're like little grasses growing freely on a hillside,
Some long, some short, swaying in the sunlight.
I think I'm starting to like my arm hair a little.
In the mirror's gaze, a reflection stares
A soul so worthy, yet often unaware
Of the love that's needed, the care that's true
The acceptance that starts with "I love you"
Embrace your flaws, your quirks, your grace
Your strengths and weaknesses, your every trace
Love the lines that tell your story so far
Love the heart that beats, the soul that shines like a star
In a world that criticizes, compares, and judges too
Remember to be kind, to yourself, anew
For you are enough, just as you are
A unique masterpiece, beyond compare
So let the love you seek, begin with you
Embrace your worth, your beauty, your truth
Make sure you love you, with all your heart
And you'll find that love will never depart.
[I entered this in "Choose a 2025 posted poem" by Brian Strand which was judged on 1/11/2025 at 10:45am. Thank you!]
[ “Everybody deserves a second chance!” ]
Within my existence, I’ve been burdened with low esteem
I was entangled within the ‘unconditional forgiveness’ cycle
To know my worth seemed like a mere dream
My forgiving being? My confidence had no survival
I was perpetually wronged throughout my life
Yet I pardoned those who wounded my being
Whenever I was met with strife
I absolved, my worth I was overseeing
But you’ve hurt me, beyond repair
And I know that for a fact
You shattered my conceptions, but now I’m aware
You can’t keep up this stupid act
Your expression twists into feign hurt
So fake it makes me want to laugh
You’re an idiot if you think I’m not alert
It’s too late for apologies on your behalf!
Destroy the peace
Screw the past push-over me!
Because of you, I feel my worth has decreased
You don’t deserve me, I know you agree
You’re frivolous, your words I won’t allow
So I’ll be fair, I will take this vow
You “want” to stay within my life, you ask how
It’s simple!
Face me now.
Misunderstanding life lessons
striving to be all we can be
hoping to change another
wishing for close bonds
fearing being alone
thinking money the solution
expecting acceptance from all
searching outside of self for answers
using excuses to avoid accountability
avoiding healing to keep codependencies
focusing on others life to avoid own
blaming to justify actions
projecting pain as a defense mechanism
diminishing self for comfortability
agreeing to avoid conflict or enemies
missing unconditional love never experienced..
Life is within, but without outside experiences, personal development
for perseverance, resilience, and character can't be shaped;
love, acceptance and validation are within so you won't go without.
Dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer
I was dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer
when a young woman stopped me,
and said, “Madame, you are superbe.”
She told me twice, Madame you are superbe
But I didn’t feel superb.
Hadn’t for a long time, if ever at all.
How is superb supposed to feel
when you're dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer?
Later I visited my doctor to
ask if there was anything she could give for
treatment of the human condition; explain the
woman had told me I was superbe.
The doctor laughed, and said
there was nothing for it I could take,
apart from anti-depressants,
if you're depressed, are you, not superb?
She asked if I needed to take a break. Shall I sign you off, she said?
Maybe some time spent, alone in bed?
No, I said. She suggested I chose values,
acceptance, rebellion, indifference or hope.
I went away, bemused
realising there is no choice
to be made, you need all values
in your armour to face despair
when you’re dancing in Boulogne Sur mer.
This year, my one and only goal,
Is to uncover the layers of my soul.
To sift through the wreckage, mend what I find,
To unlearn the chains that still bind my mind.
From echoes of trauma, from shadows of fear,
I’ll build a new path that feels sincere.
I’ll grow through the lessons my past has sown,
And heal the parts of me I’ve never known.
Acceptance will be my guiding light,
Through restless days and sleepless nights.
I’ll speak with kindness to the child within,
Forgiving the battles I didn’t win.
To achieve this, I’ll take it slow,
With patience as I learn to grow.
Through journaling, tears, and quiet walks,
Through love that softens my inner talk.
For finding myself is the key to it all,
No longer afraid to stumble or fall.
I’ll become whole, steady, and true,
And learn to love me, as I’ve learned to love you
I want to be soft, yet strong
A gentle soul with a heart full of love
To be vulnerable, to be open
I don't want to be someone else
A fake, a pretender, a mask
I want to be me, with all my flaws
With all my quirks, with all my beauty.
I want to be kind to this unkind world
I want to be that beautiful girl my friends told me I was
I want to be who I am, without apology or shame
A human , created by God
Not the one this world's trying to make
I want to be a reminder that we are all beautiful, we are all enough.
November 29,2024
There will come a time
when your reflection feels like home again.
You’ll open the door
to what you've been avoiding for years—
and it will be you, standing there,
unarmed, unashamed.
You will take out the old stories
you tucked away
and read them with new eyes,
not the ones who loved you then,
but through the quiet voice that has always seen you
and held you through the silence.
This time, you’ll sit
not to fill the space,
but to be present with the truth
you’ve been swallowing whole.
Receive. Settle.
Let the hunger finally rest.
There’s no need to look further than this moment,
no need to reach or strive.
The spirit is here, as steady as your heartbeat—
gentle, like the warmth of hands intertwined,
as familiar as the ground beneath your bare feet.
Listen—
in the quiet between each thought,
a soft truth emerges, complete and unshattered,
reminding us:
you are already home.