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.
We live in a world of so much doubt
lacking confidence is a constant seed
so many things contribute to this dilemma
'what can I do?' so many plead
Through the years, confidence has been short
having a stammer has contributed all the more
since infancy, this plight has been my lot
always looking for the key to that door
All the doors have always been locked
no matter how hard I tried, the key didn't turn
but in recent years, I've learned acceptance
the key was to accept me and not to run
At the end of the day, what does it matter?
believe in yourself, no matter what
how you speak, stammer, or fluent
your message gets there, however brought
All of this is really a triumph
one to look upon with pride
just believing you are able
knowing God is on your side
First comes Serenity, born of sunlit air,
From Latin's serenus, meaning clear and fair.
It is the soul's untroubled, cloudless sky,
Where storms of passion pass and gently die.
It is not born of circumstance or place,
But from a deep and internal state of grace,
An inner sanctum, where the spirit thrives,
And in acceptance, finds the peace it strives
To know. Serenity's a quiet art,
A settled calm within a trusting heart,
That even when the world is filled with strife,
Remains a constant, steady flame of life.
It is the core of stillness, deep and wide,
The tranquil center where our truths reside.
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.
Stiil, autumnal nights.
My soul burning so bright.
Being fully, who I am.
Not a slave to any human.
11/5/2024
I’m not for every eye to see,
a quiet truth that lives in me.
Steady in heart, grounded and whole,
I guard the light within my soul.
I may not bend to each demand;
my roots hold firm where I stand.
Through scars and stumbles, I claim the road,
guided by courage to bear the load.
If I don’t fit the world’s tight mold,
I’ll shape my life with hands untold,
for I’m not bound to every frame,
and what I am won’t fear the flame.
“Forgiveness is a funny thing.
It warms the heart and cools
the sting,”
Author: William Arthur Ward
Walking can really help daily stress.
Prayer and meditation, do I bless!
Writing poetry that fills you with pride.
Puts a lift in your step, this I do abide.
Reading a comment, makes your soul fly.
Fear not being ignored, they do come by.
Simply stated, above all, just be pure you.
You’re God’s creation, and no one is like you!
5/3/2024
In stoic rhythm, the heart beats serenity,
a sequoia weathering life's windstorms.
Whispers of Epictetus, soft zephyrs,
navigate the soul through tempest trials.
Resolute amidst chaos's dance,
a stoic symphony, resilience embodied.
Each breath, a hymn to self-mastery,
forged in the crucible of inner dominion.
Emotions carved into stoic sculptures,
adorn the sanctum of a contemplative mind.
Acceptance, a soothing elixir of solace,
for wounds dealt by fate's capricious hand.
A sage's gaze, tranquil and unwavering,
reads the landscape of joy and strife.
In stoic's gentle embrace, life unfolds,
a canvas painted with hues of inner peace.
I've learnt to accept everything and everyone else,
Now if only I can finally learn to accept myself.
There are girls whose arms flow and those whose legs grow
Shorter or longer than others.
With elbows and knees that nobody sees,
That are very much like their mothers,
They worry of feet that no one will see
Refusing to show them uncovered.
Wear outfits with shoes, revealing no clues
So their faults may remain undiscovered.
There are girls with hair all shiny and bright,
Who drink in small sips and are so lady-like;
They worry of wrinkles and things out of place
Cover with makeup the shame on their face.
Not worthy, they think, they must carry the blame
Not knowing the truth, that we all are the same.
Girls who don’t know what it means to be seen,
Through the Truth of our eyes; not as goddess or queen,
But as people of worth: a real human being.
Where are your words?
Who wants to know?
What should you be saying that you have forgotten to say?
What should you be saying to yourself? To revitalize yourself?
Self-deprecation does not work in your schemata.
Anxiety and fear are not your go-to places.
I consciously banish the feelings of the last three weeks.
Realizing they were induced by drugs, not reality.
Can I get back? Can I retain my enthusiasm? Can I get past this apathy?
My acceptance of my former self into my reality is all I need.
I read my words and recognize the positivity in them.
Remembering these are my words.
Not anything else’s, determined to
bring myself back
one
word
at
a
time ...
Accept you
Cannot
Control
Everything.
Pray.
Trust.
Appreciate
Nature.
Consider
Eternity.
Filtered light
Through the canopy
Upon my face
Lifted hand to the sky
I dream in an ensemble of colors
And a cacophony of hopes
Directing clouds
With only one finger
I'm a maestro
And for once I realize
That maybe I am worthwhile
And not a waste
With a smile
I'm bathed in radiance
And filled with hope
One last song of healing
No more regression
I dictate my own destiny
And I know now
The hardest person to love
Is yourself
Filtered hope
Through the canopy
Upon my soul
The prison cell has us held
with a power of it's own
no matter what we do
speak fast or slow we remain alone.
Even in spells of some fluency
it comes and attacks from the back
taking us in our complacency
So we are held by its attack.
We need take some consolation
there is always some other source
to supply us with what, you ask
to speak acceptably of course.
To speak acceptably what is that?
it's many things to us all
but we need to find this
if not, we'll just fall, fall, fall.
This body I have got
with a stammer belonging to me
but reality says its mine for keeps
So acceptance is the only key.
poetgord