Future Self Poems | Examples
These Future Self poems are examples of Self poems about Future. These are the best examples of Self Future poems written by international poets.
I am the rot beguiling the saccharine summer hue
I am the self in selfish sorrow, sullying the morning dew
Sickened with the mortal blips of emotion
To fall with the fragility of flesh hipped erosion
Hipped bone beneath browned bandage
Honed the hand hither, 'ncase fickle flesh cannot manage
T'stand aground the mortal vantage
Health t'sickness, worn to wear, not to manage, thy
Breath be dragged'n rancid acid, lipped from the dazed haze of exhaustion
She who had not a gun to brandish, but the naval blade o'self-famish
She who chose to awake, who awoke'n self-loathing
Whose body is irate with the dawned dam break of bile
T'overflow mine own organs, and hinder the words of hungered mind
Breaking the tide of the thrum drum pendulum heart
Shalt th'tounge twist rue th'bile duct of recovery
Drool the drivel of a mere reason 'why?'
And retract the bile of thy sickened mind.
I am to drool the drivel, of love from human kind
Im so tired'f this mortal mortuary
In place of mortal mind.
I am the mind that threatens to die.
And i am the mind, prepared to fight.
You’ve spent years gathering pieces.
Lessons woven into your hands,
stitched into your voice,
threaded through the way you move.
Still, you hesitate.
As if wisdom needs a witness.
As if truth needs permission.
As if you are waiting for someone
to say, yes, you are allowed.
But no one is coming to grant you authority.
No degree, no title, no nod of approval
will make you more of what you already are.
You know.
You have always known.
And when you finally claim it—
they will know too.
Affirmed & Perfect
I looked at my reflect,
Green T-shirt paired with black pants,
Hopes of bright future surged ahead.
I waited long, till a van came,
Reached late when class had already commenced,
Nervous and unknown in that herd,
I thought,
Someone would know the Aditi I left.
With each passing day,
I, too, failed to recollect.
Adjusting among peers,
I left laughter, fun and ease.
All still went well,
Until I was mocked for which I was best.
Making a front bencher hide at last,
Uninterested to struggle further,
She surrendered too fast.
Leaving her nurturers disheartened,
She cried alone at dark nights on bed.
Simultaneously, a heart break came.
Cracking a whole of four chambers in million shards.
I remember I had said;
'Changes & Adjustments can't be for vain'.
I didn't knew,
How a white lie was used;
To ease our worries,
For the uncertain future ahead.
day by day and brick by brick
we're building the foundation
of the person we want to be
who knows what lies around the corner
or who we'll meet upon our path
we hope to be ready in our hearts
and be the person we're proud to be
to make the most of each new opportunity
Jack 155 10 Mar 2025
I met my younger self today
He insisted it was at the pub
He needed to be comfy and had much to say
I declined his offer of a pint
Declaring I’m good with the water, thanks anyway
He insisted, come on have a beer, it’s what we do
I told him, one day he will know, he lives in the darkness of extreme
I remind him of the expression of two ears and one mouth
Wishing him mindful awareness, that might cure his deafness
He told me stories that I already know, saying it’s all just about fun
I spoke about all the untold waste, not just of time and money
But of lost days and unexplored capability, potential and provision
I looked my younger self firmly in the eyes
I explained that life shouldn’t be about regrets
But there will be what if’s, maybe’s and I wonder’s
I know he hadn’t heard me, there certainly wasn’t any thank you
I just smiled, knowing that sometime in the future
He will say
I wished I’d met you earlier
Why should we tread alone?
Come, let's walk together.
Each path is peril-prone.
We face stormy weather.
Shouldn't we be aware
Of our powers and flaws
Shouldn't each one's welfare
Be conscientious cause
Shouldn't our arrogance
Selfishness and detest
Give way to elegance
And make ourselves blessed
Our future is unknown.
Let's not be in tether.
Why should we tread alone?
Come, let's walk together.
To be safe is to cozy up with your past,
Like that old sweater you can’t throw away—a bit frayed, but a blast!
What you see is what you get—
A masterpiece of chaos, like a cat's hairball at your feet,
Born from the brilliant art of dodging responsibility,
And a grand delusion that mistakes are just "creative beats.”
To love is to pretend you care, oh dear,
For something outside yourself—like that plant you forgot to water, I fear.
Yes, most religions have turned this into a thriving market,
Selling “selflessness” like it's the latest fashion—what a racket!
Stained with the colors of thought and wishful dreams,
Dulled by contemplating cultures—you know, the usual schemes.
And if you ponder long enough, who knows?
The future might just wink at you—but only if it shows!
But man—oh, what man dares to take a peek,
At his own quirky quirks, his blunders, and, let’s face it, his cheek?
He is king at heart, ruling with a laugh,
In this comedy of life, where we all play our part—just look at the staff!
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 black skin
When I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see her voice constantly silenced
When I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see her fight to fix the unjust system
But when I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see a fire That still burns
But when I see my grandmother's eyes
A lifetime of courage
But when I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see a courageous spirit who has still got it
But when I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see a woman who has been strong all her life
Now when I see me
I see my grandmother's legacy
And now that I know me
I will carry her torch
Through future generations
Because when i see me
I see my grandmother
Years of struggles and despair
Bullied endless
Beaten down
Name calling beyond my real name
Fights unbearable
Early school days
Always picked on
Life having ups and down
Hard swings
Criticism always
No matter what
Discouragement through negativity
Like a pen with no ink
A pencil with no point
Felt like a nobody
Serving no purpose
What people wanted to believe
The wonder years
The wonder how I preserved
The answer being Heaven above
My adult years being my perspective
Reflecting back to those days that were
The approach
Words spoken becomes a listen
The past made me stronger into the future
Picture frame perfect
The storms encountered
Today I pursue
Devoted observations surrounding proceed
Wisdom has shown me the way
I live by every day.
Fate is a thing such as mould
While you're the material
And what does life feel?
A melting furnace is either hot
or cold?
It's hot when you're inside
Being melted and coil
To be the things expected
Which opposed by your soul
Once you desire to be yourself
As what you firmly believe
To create your own spectacular life
Allowing all the dreams to bloom
As long as you're your ownself
The fate will leave you
To the distant invisible
Staying obsolete
And being cold
Emerging from my teens
I had a head full
of ghosts to escape from -
inhabitants of an inner world
I kept to myself. Future life
was over there,
at the end of a train line,
a long road, the last port
of call on a ship's long voyage.
I could never get far enough
away - they always
found me hiding in some
masquerade, a clever cover
concocted to conceal -
at times I even fooled myself.
Mirrors were a bane,
they told the truth
and so I learned to look away.
A lifetime on
they are still with me but now
I know each by name.
There are days
when they draw close
and become weepy
as if seeking love,
though still afraid to leave
the refuge of my shadow.
A recent poem l posted raised some negative feelings within me
About myself …. leaving me feeling annoyed
As l felt l had to write a “Please Note” on it
Explaining my poems intention….so false judgement l would avoid!
My poem topics are always varied
Though writing about human nature, traits ,feelings, l do enjoy
l was falsely accused of writing poems about another poet
Soupmails sent to many … telling of my underlying ploy
What was said about me is so far from the truth
Never would l write about any individual mean-spiritedly or be unkind
It is mean, hurtful, and serves no purpose
It is the furtherest thought from my mind
My poems are about my life experience
Uncomplicated, simple and that is all
If you see yourself in my words
That is on you and solely your call
So, to be quite clear ‘l do not’ write mean poems about P.S. poets
There will be no future “ Please Notes” to explain
Believe it or not …..Judge if you want
As your slanted opinion of me l will no longer entertain
SELF LOVE
I finally emerged from my hypnotic state
When I’d been scribbling notes to myself
Back in the room was quite a shock to me
Being both in and out of a kind of fantasy
Yet I do recall doubting my mental health
But then saw just what I was told to create
A letter to myself written in my own hand
Expressing a kind of love or so it appeared
A long list of all my otherwise hidden traits
If conscious, it may have tempted the fates
But that analysis seemed to be multi-tiered
And surprising for me, hard to understand
In summary, it said I wasn’t so bad after all
Yet some details were embarrassing in a way
A dream state suggestive of insights so deep
That I’d worry in future of my falling asleep
But some aspects of myself had parts to play
And that sooner or later had to heed the call
Since then, I have thought much about that
Is it better OK, rather than at the extremes
With my true self, I think I’d get along fine
Despite the temptation to step over the line
But of every version of me I’d see in dreams
Would I merely smile and even doff my hat
Isn't she a sight?
Her inner nature has began to take flight.
No person on Earth will ever hold a candle
to the beauty of her inner wisdom.
Years of lessons to sift through
before she would see herself in that same view.
She wanted to give up.
She tried to tap out.
God just kept telling her
there was a purpose for the pain
and everything would not likely sound sane.
That pain she lived and the love she lost
was all paid with the highest cost.
She was determined to show the world of truth
Just how they had managed to continue the growth.
If you got to see the reality of the person she is within,
then know that mind of hers is always going to win.
She cried and begged for the pain to certainly end,
yet there she was,
the rock and hard place
and the pin would do her in.
She was nowhere near perfect
but her soul was full of a fire.
God would always re-stoke her
and the blaze would be higher.
No man can oppose the truth of her survival.
How else did she live
in the faces of her rivals?
Those are the colours.
Which binds together, and then
A beautiful background is formed.
Which mesmerizes people.
Which blends together
And forms an
Amazing shade
Which is then visible to us.
Whatever the shade is
It has never made itself unattractive.
And we still have a fondness for it.
Because it's a piece of art.
Humans are also kind of shades.
Who are unique in their own way.
Beautiful, kind, and lovely
And fascinating for other people.
We humans are pieces of art too.
Everyone has different talents.
Everyone are unique and contrast
And we are the future of all.