Survival Poems - Poems about Survival

I have seen the ones who climb from the wreck, hair smelling of gasoline and rain, eyes wide as if they’ve just been born. I have seen the others, still in the wreckage, leaning back against a seatbelt’s cradle, breathing as if it costs too much to keep going. Some Will Rise to the Challenge, Others Will Not. Second chances are not handed...

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Seasons change New life blossoms New Beggings Sure to come However Stains of the past carry on The grip of racism Yet to let go Historical tragedies Come and gone But one remains timeless and strong Discrimination of a certain colour Hate towards black people Yes seasons change New mindsets born A system so flawed Has yet to be updated Houses destroyed...

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I walked away not free from snags caused by those in authority, but to be free from cruelty to save my spirit against evilness  And injustice in power's grip Tied up by abusive six sprawling  division in command, footsteps no trace, only an echo weeping soul in the dusk! Harsh words dug deeper into my soul— sickening insults to my inner self— a burden carried within the shadowed kingdom. So...

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there is ugliness in this world where there is no need for it why do we tolerate indifference injustice, brutality and greed when there's plenty to go around it's a game of checkers for the have's and mere survival for the have-not's AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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The devil couldn’t reach me, so he sent diversions in the form I desired most. He wrapped lies in laughter, gave them cute faces, glittered them up like gold. And I forgot, sometimes a wound wears jewels, sometimes danger looks like everything you ever prayed for. So I fell for it. I wasn’t the sun in their day, nor the star in their...

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I dont blame her for how she chose to survive It was never really her choice It was a forced setup A gun forced into our hand To absolve them of guilt But they guide our hands On to the trigger And coax us into pulling it But was it really suicide When the world forced...

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Acceptance equals survival Survival equals safety Comfort equals invisibility And invisibility is vital For us to live a somewhat peaceful life 'Somewhat' because they even kill us in silence They even kill us despite our compliance When they see us we are greeted with violence There is a method to the existence of being black A formula so...

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Life is short they say So you better make the most of it But what happens When that's not the case for everyone Where there are some Who are constantly changing freedom Whilst simultaneously hiding in the shadows Hoping to see tomorrow So how can one live life to the fullest When the odds are stacked against you But...

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Three men. Three shadows with human faces, Hands like chains, Voices coated in liquor and cologne — That same cologne still snakes through my chest, Claws at my lungs every time I smell it. They didn’t need chains — They used hands, words, filth. And God? Stood there. Silent. Watched them rip my clothes, Rip the light from my chest, While I begged the sky for mercy That...

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She smiled in rooms that cracked her spine, where beauty bruised and grace meant lie. They called her calm, not knowing this– each breath she took was clenched like fists. The silence praised was not her peace. It was the cage. She found the keys....

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The world demands identity— a name, a face, a history. But in its grip, you lose your way, and shame is what they make you pay. They drag your truth into the light, then twist it wrong and call it right. They dress you up in guilt and fear, then whisper lies for all to hear. A coin of shadow tempts the soul, Whispers...

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A heart grown weary in silent rain, No roof to shelter, no meal to gain. No gentle voice, no hand to hold— Just aching silence, damp and cold. I left behind what broke my soul, A job that crushed what once was whole. Now I drift with nowhere near, And all I know is ache and fear. I do not seek to shame...

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"Blackbird" You cannot cage what's born to rise, she blazed beyond their brittle lies. They named her ash, they named her end, but fire learns how not to bend. Her silence cracked the sky in two, she flew where only lightning flew, They heard her cry, not weak–but wise– a battle hymn of "Blackbird" skies....

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They mistook her silence for softness. But beneath that stillness, the ground was shifting. She wasn't snow– she was the mountain before it breaks. She held her tongue like a fuse, every word a spark she wasn't ready to let go. Not yet. She didn't scream– she shimmered. Until the heat in her lungs became truth, until the truth was too molten...

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I broke away not so long ago, But there are things I want you to know. I survived, yes, but I’m not yet healed— A healthy life still unrevealed. I wake each day often with a start, Worry and wariness still haunt my heart. Pains of the skin are all long gone, But the uncertainty still breathes on. Starting my day, I follow...

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