Self Willed Poems | Examples

Do The Crime, Do The Time

8/4/2025

Countless individuals
have become self willed.
Seems each day that passes
innocent people are killed.

Shootings and stabbings
have become the norm.
To society’s prescript,
many loath to to conform.

Perpetrators all receive
what we call “due Process.”
So they’re given a lawyer
who excels at aggress.

Because oft times the penalty
doesn’t fit the crime.
Some are granted pardons
precluding doing their time.

Many times the perpetrators
upon return to the street.
Unwilling to seek a job
and with others compete.

They return to the same life
they failed to escape.
They were given second chances
to slash, shoot, loot and rape.

How Would You Like A Woman Who Is Not Beautiful

How would you like a woman who is not beautiful
Or how would she make an achievement in any day
How would you like a woman who is not talented
Or she can achieve something through her tough mind
You think she is beautiful, but not beautiful outside
A little bit not like a woman, she knows self-defense
Actually there are no rules to define what beauty is
What is a woman like or a man like as it perceive
What I like a woman is simple, no inhibition, no frills
She is the one that I admire, I just feel it in my heart
Sometimes she may be a bit arbitrary, self-willed 
Unreasonable or kind of independent and different
But if everyone in the world can understand her
Though how mediocre could she be at her own will.

How I Feel

He ceased from living in hell
That unholy prince of hell
He takes his hostile abode everywhere
His alluring angst's felt more here

The world now knows no bounds
Unhealthy redundant show of pow'r 'n will
Echoes of sheer messed up freewill
So boisterous like crashing of cymbals sounds

Gave his best shot to outrun his fate
One is smarter, one ended up late
Many powers faltered that one failed course
I thus feel lost in this terrestrial discourse

God forgive us in this world of ugly sinners
As we find solace in our faith's glimmers
We try to pure ourselves still we set us apart
We seek to be found yet don't know where to start

In the abyss of merciless self-willed sin
We become servants to desires that daily spin
From the shackles of our earthly tether
Help us seek Your liberty as we hope for the better

23

If the Lord was not my Savior,
I would always be lonely and lost.
My shelter would not be homely, and
I would always live without peace.

I would be rebellious and self-willed,
And my soul would be forever restless.
I would not understand righteousness,
And I would dread having to die one day.

I would not have comfort but always fear.
I would have no protection from my enemies,
Nor ever be overwhelmed with God's tender touch.

For most of my life, I would reap everything
that I have sown, seldom receiving any mercy,
And my finality would be one of hopelessness.

Seek Peace and Pray

Seek Peace And Pray
Miracle Man
10/9/2023

Man can’t get along because of our divergence,
and owing to this we live in constant dispute.
We play the race card and wait for resurgence,
we perpetuate false narratives and often confute.

At each sunrise, seems somewhere, there’s killing,
or taking property that with another does rest.
With thought and malice, blood we’re spilling,
and to get what we want we strike and protest.

We look around and see prophecy being fulfilled,
and know from this that man’s days grow short. 
We shed tears and pray for those yet self willed,
for all will face a judgment, held in God’s court.


Matthew 24:6-8
6 and ye shall hear of wars and rumours of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet.
7 For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. 8 All these are the beginning of sorrows.

Unbroken Will

UNBROKEN WILL

Strength and courage are developed with an
unbroken self-willed spirit or determination.
When there is an unbroken will, one always
finds a way, no matter how long, how hard.

When there is an unbroken will, one has the
power to keep going and trying to find a way.
or the willingness to let go for letting go is not
a weakness; but strength for it is hard to do.


11/14/21   "U" Contest, New Poems Only Poetry
                 Constance La France
                 Theme:  #2 Unbroken

Thoughts On the Physical World and Life

How finely tuned this world the great machine
Precise: its programme code, and never changing
Immutable equations writ Boolean
Determine every nuance of arranging

The scene before my eye showed clear mutation
Dull Green and brown to bright and glistening white
The signal for this magic transformation
A predetermined level Fahrenheit

Yet there’s another factor to this drama
With impact more self-willed and variegated
That may drive this abundant diorama 
I speak of life: each form reiterated

Regardless of the source from whence it came
Life creates fields, partakes in the great game

Living On the Edge

She never wanted to conform,
Bored to tears with the norm.
What does "don't say that" mean?
When so self-willed, she was, in
her universe, a queen.
She lived her life exactly as she
saw fit.
Ah, how ecstatic, not one second
of her life is counterfeit.
But rushes like wild waters wherever 
it chooses,
Blessing all rocks, with love and
wild, loving, flourishes!




July 20, 2019
3:15pm PST

Empowerment From Above

I need God’s help from above, His empowerment’s might
Ready to smite my haughtiness of carnality’s arrogance
Reproving me of my stubbornness along pride’s elegance…
Humbly yielding, my heart accepts His aid that does providentially smite.

Midst my debility inflicted by sin-caused frailty
I come to the Saviour Whose love makes me to be soul-stilled
He deals with me by His precepts, correcting my being self-willed…
Now, I submit to Him fully, loving and living for Him – my Lord Almighty.

2Samuel 22:33 God is my strength and power: and he maketh my way perfect.

June 14, 2019

On Fate

Fate looks similar to  a self-willed woman
She always gently come to you
Clinging to your shoulder when depressed
And remaining silence if smugness you have!          
She is always willing with you
And never bother to follow you up

She may be an ordinary countryside flower        
And could also behave akin to an elegant girl         
She always set the rhythm on your life
Making you chose the pain or joyous unable

Damsel In Distress

The long wait at the veranda
when will the lovely face appear
the window bars are familiar
enclosed by the grip of the long fingers
delving into the soft cheeks tender

She does not ventures out at all 
a prisoner withing the walls
self-willed or by force of elders
no inkling of mystery under wraps

There is no way to forget
the gravitation pull all around 
like the stones hurtling down
unstoppable in their momentum

The imagination creates an image
of stunning features of delicacy
a desire to act with chivalry
to save the damsel with alacrity

Going Nowhere

Slow motion memories.
Street lit like a movie set,
outside the dance hall.
Muffler-less cars,
full throttle, then eerily quiet.
Self willed machines idling along the street,
flooding the night; flashing eyeballs,
headlining teenage girls.
A sashaying crush; glancing, giggling,
disdainful in stinging beehives,
plastic jackets, high gloss paint and oily pants.

Cruising crass flash
false virility in high gloss paint.
James Dean on Sunset Strip.
Hands on the stick shift; giving themselves the gears.
skinny boys glancing in the mirror, where dice and kewpie dolls hang,
squinting at astigmatisms of Steve McQueen on hunk steroids.
Nervous to fingered combs slink through their hair,
checking out the rear end drive,
outside the dance hall on a Friday night.

A curly haired boy,
red faced brother of my best friend, never owned a car,
pushes forward in the street,
to talk with sister and friends.
Asked a girl for a kiss.
Too easily dismissed.

In the science lab; class dismissed.
Counters gleam grade A sterility.
Chemicals stare coldly from spotless beakers.
Put his mouth over the gas jet.

A curly haired boy,
going nowhere on a Friday afternoon.

Less Often Than Once

Life has been given me 
more times than truth would dare,
Death has passed by 
less often than once.
You say symmetry, symmetry 
prevails around here!
I beg to differ, 
the inanimate is not to fear.

Love knows no kind or state
of mind 
where thoughts in line
perpetuate the logic of time
but only lives in the knowledge
that nothing perpetuates itself 
except itself.

To bear fruit 
is to feel the geometry of syntax
in the movements 
of self-willed digits.
Yet the semantics of my heart 
is to divine
the course of my fingers
riding into
the horizon of your skin.

I hear the noises 
that contaminate
the streets and suburbs 
of man’s blueprints and plans
but only the rhythms of your heart
channelling love’s winds of joy
make it into the soul of my land.

Grace Is Power

The grace that comes in the heavenly spade
Paid by the God of the great exchange
Surpasses the cleansing of conscience and sin
And reaches into the nature within.

For we are gifted the power of God
Who greatly and freely covered the cost,
That we can house His nature and power 
That doesn't fade like a self-willed flower.

This power and nature cuts off the source
Of the rotting life birthed in our lust,
Replaced by the power that now can be traced
To the unforced tune and rhythms of grace.



as His divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the 
knowledge of Him who called us by glory and virtue, by which have been given to us 
exceedingly great and precious promises, that through these you may be partakers of the 
divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust. for so an 
entrance will be supplied to you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and 
Savior Jesus Christ. (II Peter 1:3, 4, 11 NKJV)

There Is a Garden In Every Child

There is a garden in every child
And every child a landscape to be filled
In every dream grows the orchid wild
In every infant the sweet self-willed
What will you plant happily today
What will you reap sadly tomorrow
How ling will the lily fragrance stay
Who will dig and plough it, and harrow?
There is a garden in every child
In every dream grows the orchid wild.

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