Self Discovery Poems - Poems about Self Discovery

Marathon of Memories

The morning fog low over the empty streets,
soft as a whispered promise.
My shoes slapped the pavement in steady rhythm--
each step a heartbeat counting the miles.
I had yet to run—and those I’d left behind.

Streetlamps stretched shadows across brick walls.
Long, crooked shapes that seemed to shiver.
A dog barked somewhere—
sharp, sudden—
and I remembered even echoes can run far.

I

Little Mirrors

Reflection catches
My guilt .
I lose the trust 
In whatever  , God,  I  pray too.
I need a release ,
I need to take the seat
I need to Stare back at Me.
 
Eyes opening a grave.
Don't won't to  Be IN THE WAY.
I'm  red,  in chains
Im Covered , 
In dirt
Unburied Me slowly.
 I'm

Anatomy of Silence

After poem for "How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning


I offered you trust, an open door without locks, My heart lay exposed, vulnerable on the rocks.

You entered with a grin, words sweet as honey, But your exhale was ice, your caress felt phony.

You spoke of my glow, then left me in the dark,

In Your Studio

I’m on your lap
in a photo I no longer have—
a toddler with a borrowed brush,
my hand caught mid-daub
on your canvas.
It was staged, of course—
your painting for a calendar
on the easel in front of us
like the month you gave me
a tool of your craft
and I mistook it
for permission—
but my brush didn’t
paint like yours.

Sometimes I wonder
if you

Never Safe

Never Safe

I’ve never felt safe, if I may be so bold,
No warm shelter from nights so cold
If walls were strangers, far or near,
This silent place was built from fear.
Their smiles were teasing, sharp and sly,
Their hug a blade, an unspoken lie.
I’ve had to breathe without a sound,
Hid my tears, kept pain unbound.
At night I whispered

Ignorant Indulgence

Juicy Couture
Juicy Couture
Dont make ish like this no more

Bring back good fashion
SHEIN is tired
Wool, silk, linens
Put polyester in a fire

The fads have faded
Trends are tired
Give us proper clothes
Our situation is dire

This waste, this consumption
Our society is plagued
This greed, this hunger
Buying through guilt and rage

A human hole 
Fill it with stuff
Emotions take hold
Fill it with fluff

No

I WANT

I want to climb mountains high.
Before they start falling from the sky.
I will pray for every hater.
And be like my creator.

I don’t want to live in regret.
I want to accomplish the goals I set.
And soar beyond the streams.
Where pain is a distant dream.

I want to be one with my creator.
And live like my savior.
Turn down

Self-discovery

Self-discovery
I have been robbed of the joy well deserved,
The golden confidence beneath,
The inner peace.
I have been robbed of a voice, treasured
Caged, and echoing behind my rib cage.

What a long journey of discovery,
Discovery of wealth carried in me.
And now I am a walking art,
Built from fragments of my broken past.

I peeped through my destiny,
In between blank

In the mirror's gaze

Each day I stand before the glass,
A meeting where truths unmask.
She waits for me with patient eyes,
Reflecting what I oft despise.
She shows me depths I never knew,
What I’ve ignored, what I misconstrue.
Her silent empathy, her tender care,
She cries for me, always there.
“It is okay, mate,” her whispers say,
Guiding me through shadows grey.
At times I hate,

The Unmoored Ship

The Unmoored Ship

I waltz through the ship,
Yet not dancing like the eerie drizzle in my mind,
While footprints dissolve into the quiet embrace of the deck.

The laborers pace back and forth,
Hauling their burdens—
Just like me, struggling to steady my steps,
Misaligned with my thoughts.

I beg the tranquil wind
Not to whisper my prophecy to the sky,
But the sky

Personal Inconsistencies

Consistency is key isn't it not?

Then why does it feel like a chore rather than a reward?

Nobody gives you a road map on life
So why are there so many pressures from wrong to right?

Inconsistency has been a part of my whole life
Whether I knew it or not

But that's the thing

Little girls and little boys are

Self-Discovery

I am Love, Love is I
Freefalling, below the sky
Slow rotting, I know it's time
Unthawing, my countless eyes
Still wonder, who am I
Authentic, no disguise
Heart empty, I hope it's lies
I illuminate the skyline with truth that multiplies
High... My pinnacle
Heroic by nature but I brand myself a criminal
No escape from the same reality that's killing you
I lived with

the truth I didn’t want to believe

I gave all I had
even when I thought
I had nothing to give.

I stayed,
I fought,
I built bridges
over an ocean of lies
just to find myself drowning.

I didn’t want it to end.
I didn’t want it to be true.

But no matter how much you try,
you can’t make someone stay.
You can’t make someone care.

And now,
all that’s left
is the truth I

a flame no wind could touch

I searched for light
in the spaces you left behind—
in empty chairs at dinner,
in the silence that lingered after your name.

I thought if I tried hard enough,
if I gave enough,
I could bring it back—
the warmth, the glow,
the feeling of being whole.

But the more I gave,
the smaller I became,
until I couldn’t tell
if I was searching for you,
or

I thought I’d be the one

I thought I’d be the one
someone would fight to keep.

That my absence would make you pause,
that my silence would make you care.

I wasn’t asking for the world—
just a sign that I mattered.

But here I stand,
wondering if I’ll always be
the one waiting to be seen.

Maybe I’m learning now:
No one’s coming back.

The fight I was waiting for
starts

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