Struggle Poems | Examples

Through Life’s Clenched Jaw

I have walked the hallways
where minutes gnash like teeth,
each second a pebble pressed
into the jaw of memory.

The air tastes of iron--
memory’s rust,
old prayers swallowed
before they ever touched the light

Yet still - I carry my candle
into the jaw’s dark cavern,
its flame a soft rebellion
against the grindstone silence.

Soft laughter rests in the cracks,
like seeds grabbed
into the frozen earth,
waiting for the frost to release them,
for spring to rise
from winter’s quiet.

I move onward,
not a hostage,
but marrow unbroken,
a hymn rising
through bone and enamel,
singing until the jaw
yields to the light.

Hang On, Hang On

I’ve been playing for years,
well aware of your fears,
most don’t make it, that’s clear,
but they say we’ve cracked the top ten;
a struggle it’s become,
but it always was one,
finally, it seems done,
downloads paying off dividends.

Hang on, hang on,
babe we’re almost there,
hang on, hang on,
we’ll get there.
So close to it
you better prepare,
hang on, hang on,
it’s right there!

Take a chance on my dream,
not a sure thing, it seemed,
of the crop I’m not the cream,
spent so many ate nights away.
I know you could have left,
parents said that was best,
maybe we passed the test,
we’re coming on a good payday!

Hang on, hang on,
babe we’re almost there,
hang on, hang on,
we’ll get there.
So close to it
you better prepare,
hang on, hang on,
it’s right there!

All that went wrong,
we’ve been waiting for so long,
all my mistakes,
challenges along the way.
all of this risk,
making sure I earned this,
breakthrough, at last,
no more days of living fast!

Hang on, hang on,
babe we’re almost there,
hang on, hang on,
we’ll get there.
So close to it
you better prepare,
hang on, hang on,
it’s right there!

Struggle

Struggle 

Every day is a struggle,
Like a huddle
With myself In my head,
Wondering if it will end 
Everyday you control my mind
Like a bind 
A never ending bond
Of trauma
And drama
And running to my mama
I try to be happy
But I wish it was permanently 
My mind is tired of this daily struggle 
Just trying to be the kid
Who loved to cuddle

Struggle


The Quiet Pull

A single pill rests on the counter--
quiet, small, almost polite.
I told myself it would stay that way.

But days grew thinner,
hours frayed at the edges
and the quiet promise began to hiss.

Friends laughed. I nodded.
My reflection wavered in the glass,
someone familiar yet gone.

The pull was slow - like water eroding stone,
soft at first, then urgent, unstoppable.

I chased the calm it offered,
unmindful of the shadows it left behind,
the nights pulsing with my heartbeat,
the mornings hollowed and quiet.

One day, I reached for air instead...
for the sharp taste of morning,
for voices that held me without judgment,
for a hand that said;
“You are not this. You are still you.”

Healing does not arrive in a flare.
It creeps softly, day by day
teaching the heart to see once more,
to taste the colors that were dimmed,
to carry the weight of the world
without letting it break the soul.

Premium Member Tried And Cried

You tried, tried
And you cried
You never gave up
You found hope
As a last resort
Because you fought
Until the last drop of blood
Until the last shade of mud.

You are my angel, my hero
You refused to fall and to go
You cried, cried
And tried, tried
To succeed against all odds
You were strong and you wore pads
You tried, tried
And you cried.

Heroes cry too
And Angels cry too
You are a model to me
I respect your bravery
You are my inspiration
And my endearing passion
You tried and cried

And I too tried and cried.

Copyright © September 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.

Love, version 1: reflections on personal experiences of love, inspired by reading bell hooks

Wounded by its lack
Distrustful of it 
Inured to its absence 
In thrall to its allure
Fooled by its simulacrum
Estranged from it 
Paralysed by fear of losing it
Inexorably exposed to it 
Resolved against it 
Consumed by longing for it
A scholar to its foreign texts 
A slave to its compulsions 
Compelled to search for it
Forever 
Hopeful


Premium Member My Daily Struggle

I wake up miserable each morning 
Being mad at the world around me 
For having to exist in this forsaken life 
That for me is only hell and misery 

It seems most choices that I made 
Led me farther and farther astray 
Now I’m lost in this forest of depression 
And I have no idea how to find my way 

In this world full of so many people 
Why is it that I always feel I’m alone 
I pushed away anyone who tried to care
With the heartlessness that I had shown 

Inside I’m scared of loving someone 
Life has shown me they will always leave 
So why let them get close to me 
So they can hurt me causing me to grieve 

Maybe it’s as simple as that for me
If someone is going to break my heart 
Why not let that someone be me
And never let them love me from the start 

Or is my mental state of mind deranged 
And there is some medication I should take
It this some disorder thats gone undiagnosed 
Causing this life of hell I can not shake

I would let him die

I would see him die, rather than saving him.

I don't know what his life could be after he dies, or if he would be saved.

If someone dies, that person is remembered, would be praised for his good deeds, or criticized for words he never meant in that way.

But I will have the thought that he will have a better afterlife—what many people don't know about.

But if I save that person, I don't know what major change I will cause in his stormful presence.

He is looking dead into my eyes, like his eyes are telling me that I am the last living person who hasn't seen him with disgust.

I saw him jump over the bridge.

At first, I thought a thief or a burglar took his wallet and pushed him off.

But now I am questioning what I should believe—

The fake thought that I have created, or the reality that he wants to die in.

And at that point, I would let him die, rather than saving him.

Family

When winds are rough,
And tear at hopes and dreams
When days are dark, and nights are tough,
And over-long, it seems
When bitter clouds collect above,
And ache and break and pour
We'll batten down the hatches, 
Just like we did before.
You see, to me - we're made to last;
To wait, contented, warm;
To stand and know the past has passed.
For now, it's just a storm.
If you should fray, or fall apart,
In any where or when
We’ll always try, with all our heart,
To make you whole again.
But if you do fall behind,
And break and shake to bits
The day will come where you will find,
The pieces still all fit.
That's quite enough of strain and strife,
And painful days, astray.
This isn't at all funny, life.
Enough for now, okay?

A Fearless Okay

An empty room filled 
with silence, 
I want to remain, 
I want to dream more. 
The wind pushes 
the window wide 
open filling the room,
no longer empty; 
yet, nobody’s there,
 
dark, cold, empty,
middle of nowhere on top 
of a hill. I can't fly 
like the flower petals over 
there. I step outside, 
and lay on grass under
a sky filled with stars. 
Maybe I can't 
reach the sky, but 
I want to stretch 
my hand out 
and still try. 
 
The stars remain eternal. 
As I walk north,
I continuously walk
among this darkness.

My happy memories haunt
me and question my
choices. I too wonder
what will become 
of me, yet

I still want to struggle,
not knowing 
which path to take, 
I now consider this
my fate,
times of sink or swim,
life surrounded
by hardships, but 
I cannot give up,
this is my fight.

Maybe I can never fly
to the sky of stars far
out of my reach, but
I still want to try.
Its only night,
the morning always 
comes,

a long journey awaits me.

Prisoner

Don’t think too hard.
They sting behind your eyes.
Sharp swells
from the recessing snake pit.

Faces warp, wrap, and real.
Knotted limbs 
of trying tapestry.
The marriage of scale and skin.

Remember to forget.
My soul was not to keep.
A window woe.
Through eyes not mine, I see.

Take from me
what was yours already.

Prisoner.

Inner struggle

I accepted being the third wheel
But now the fifth?
It's like I'm made out of steel
I became a myth
Still can't believe it's real
I can feel everything in my pith

I wake up everyday
Hoping it won't ever be the same
I want to stay
At the same time, I want to erase my name
Feel like I have to pay
Cuz' I am to blame
That îs the way
To slowly burn in the flame

I can no longer speak
I talk with my yes
I feel weak
Oh, what inside lies
Thought I was unique
But someone who continuously dies
Îs just a freak
That would never reach the skies
A total wreak
Even thought it tries

The Road She Walked

She kept walking—until emotions burst.
Weeping, she cried out in a public space,
Where no one cared enough to stop or see
The woman breaking at the corner of the road.

In her sobs, a memory returned:
A voice, a message—
New beginnings,
And a man who stood like a torch of light
In the dim glow of night.

But greed mocked her,
And laughter echoed in that cruel place—
A dungeon of fire.
Still, God sent a kind-hearted rescuer.

She was hungry, tired, and pale,
On the edge of vanishing into the day.
No food, no coin,
Just emptiness and dry hope
Wishing to leave,
To be anywhere else but there.

To connect in the world of paradise
Where in that place could she find?
Where in that place she was betrayed 
Where in that place, she begged for kindness.

It's a truth that she will bring
And the hope and courage in her heart that will forever be treasured until she finds a place that she can call "home".

Premium Member MOON OVER THE MOUNTAIN

MOON OVER THE MOUNTAIN*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moon ascends, a silver coin tossed into the well of sky. 
Its glow spills over jagged peaks, 
softening their rugged edges.

I stand beneath the moon’s glow, pondering my own ascent~
those moments when I climbed, when I faltered, 
and when I stood still, lost in the beauty of the struggle.

*Cendrine Marrouat published this poem at Haiku Shack (creativeramblings.com) in June, 2025.  It is my original creation.

Premium Member Silence

Autumn leaves
fall slow
a child's questions 
left hanging
in digital silence.

My fingers trace
letters that will not
hold still

b becomes d
was becomes saw
help becomes
nothing.

The maple outside
my bedroom window
drops one red leaf,
then another,
marking time
the old way.

Mom's phone buzzes:
Car arriving in 3 minutes
Pizza en route
Package delivered.

But no alert sounds
for the moment
understanding
slips away
from me.

No GPS tracks
the distance
between
what I know
and what
I need to know
to keep up
with Sarah, Asha
and Ahmed
and everyone else
who makes reading
look easy.

The tree empties
itself
of summer.

My note
book
empties
itself
of answers
I cannot find.

Both of us wait
for spring,
for someone
to notice
the silence
growing
inside me
in all this
bright, connected
noise.

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