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Best Poems Written by Garty Bowersox

Below are the all-time best Garty Bowersox poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Garty Bowersox Poem

The Question We Can’t Answer

What happens when we die?
Do our souls float around in nothingness,
unaware of the world?
Do we ascend to heaven like Jesus did?
Or do we get another life?
A life to try again, to do better. 

What happens when we die? 
Do we live on in people’s hearts?
Or are we forgotten?
Do we get to see our loved ones?
Our sons and daughters grow up,
make mistakes, find love? 
Is it hard?

What happens when we die?
Does it hurt to be dead?
Do we feel things the same way?
Do we see things that the living can’t see?

What happens when we die?
Do we haunt the living?
Does the living haunt us? 
Does the dead talk 
with others that have died?

What happens when we die?
Do we lose our sight or hearing,
touch or smell?
Forever?

What happens when we die?
Do we party with our loved ones?
With God?
Do you hear God?
See God?

Do we even know that we are dead?

Details | Garty Bowersox Poem

The Light Within

In every moment, there's a spark,
A gentle glow that lights the dark,
The sun will rise, the stars will gleam,
And chase away the night’s old dream.

Each step you take is yours to make,
A chance to grow, a path to take,
With every breath, a hopeful sign,
That guides you through the toughest climb.

The world is wide, a canvas bright,
With colors bold and dreams in sight,
So paint with love, with heart’s own hue,
And watch your dreams come into view.

The river flows, the mountains stand,
The quiet whispers, the open land,
They’ll help you find your way, each day,
And lead you to the light of day.

Your heart’s a beacon, shining true,
With dreams and hopes that carry you,
And every challenge that you face,
Is just a step towards your place.

Welcome each sunrise with a smile,
For in its light, your dreams compile,
With every beat, with every cheer,
The path ahead will soon be clear.

So let your spirit rise and soar,
To places you’ve not been before,
For in your heart, the strength is found,
To turn each hope into something profound.

Details | Garty Bowersox Poem

The Day the Chains Fell

The air smells different now
cleaner, somehow.
Like a breath I’ve never taken before.
June, 1865,
a warm wind brushes against my skin,
and I stand taller than I ever thought I could.
No more the shadow of a master’s whip,
no more the sting of lashes in the night.
No more the silence in the fields
where I buried my voice beneath the soil.

They say we are free,
though I don't yet know 
how to walk in this new world.
Freedom feels like a heavy cloak
I don’t know how to wear.
But I wear it now,
my shoulders no longer bent,
my heart no longer shackled.

I remember the sound of the auction block,
the bitter taste of salt and fear,
the names they called me,
the ones they took from me
before they gave me a number.
I remember the names of those
who never saw this day,
who never tasted this new breath.

And now I whisper for them.
All of them gone.
Gone, gone, gone
but never forgotten.

I hold their names like the sun
holds the sky
alive in the blood of my bones,
alive in the light of this new dawn.

Details | Garty Bowersox Poem

Chained Animals


A majestic beast, so wild and free
Tamed and held in captivity
Chained and bound, no longer wild
The beast's spirit, so broken and mild.

The beast is forced to toil and serve
The master's will, it can't observe.
Its dreams and hopes, all put to rest
Its voice, unheard, its soul, oppressed.

A herd of sheep, obedient and meek
Their spirit broken, their will, weak.
Led through the darkness, their future bleak
Their dreams and hopes, no longer speak.

Though hope is lost, the spirit remains
The beast and the sheep shall sustain.
Though it has taken away their will
Their courage and pride will never be still.

Details | Garty Bowersox Poem

The Weight of Expectation

I stand in the mirror,
a reflection of my ancestors' fight,
a man forged in the fire of their dreams.
But the image stares back,
hollow, questioning,
asking if I’ve done enough.

Their voices echo in the chambers of my mind—
marches on sun-scorched streets,
songs of freedom sung in chains,
hands calloused from building what they’d never own.
"Rise," they whispered.
But have I risen high enough?

I see the pride in their stories,
the resilience in their bones,
the hope in their tired eyes.
And I wonder—
is my stride too slow?
Are my hands too empty?
Have I failed the legacy they bled to leave?

Some days, I carry the weight like a crown.
Other days, it crushes me.
I measure myself against the shadow
of what I think they’d want me to be.
Every stumble feels like a betrayal,
every doubt a crack in the foundation
they built with so much pain.

But then, in the stillness,
I feel them.
Not the judging voices of my fears,
but their steady hands, lifting me.
Their love, unconditional,
whispering truths I often forget:

"You are enough, even in your struggle.
The fight is not just in triumph,
but in every breath you take,
every moment you choose to keep going.
You are not alone;
you are a thread in the fabric of us all."

So, I walk forward.
Not perfect, not complete,
but carrying their fire,
burning brighter
with every step.

Details | Garty Bowersox Poem

An Unbroken Fury

They throw their stones,  
cast their shadows over those  
I hold dear,  
and with every sneer,  
every whispered word,  
they try to break them.  

But I won’t stand by.  
I won’t watch quietly  
as they tear at the threads  
that bind us together.  

They don't know the strength  
it takes to stand firm  
against the weight of their hate.  
But I do.  
And I will not let my friends 
My people crumble 

I’ve seen the fear in their eyes,  
felt the sting of their pain,  
and each time,  
it cuts deeper,  
burns brighter.  

But I won’t let it end here.  
I will fight,  
with the fire of love  
that refuses to be quenched,  
with the fury of loyalty  
that refuses to fade.  

They can spit their venom,  
they can laugh their cruel laughter,  
but they will never break us.  

For what are we,  
if not a shield for each other,  
a force too strong to be silenced?  

So let them come,  
let them bring their hate 
I will stand,  
unbowed,  
for my friends,  
for the ones I call home.

Details | Garty Bowersox Poem

The Visitor's Solitude

In a house where the heat once reigned,
The breeze arrived, its gift sustained,
A gentle drizzle kissed the pane,
As laughter echoed, hearts unchained.

Within the living room, they played,
A family bond, in joy amazed,
The visitor outside, his heart conveyed,
He dared not enter, joy to evade.

He feared his presence, like a snake,
Would chase away the joy they'd make,
Yet he, undaunted, would not forsake,
The chance to glimpse the joy they'd partake.

With courage found, he opened the door,
No notice at first, he went in more,
The mother's tears began to pour,
And sorrow seeped through the room's core.

"Why do you weep?" the young boy asked,
In his innocence, the question masked,
But soon, his joy began to crack,
As sorrow's shadow veiled the past.

"Go away," the father cried,
His gaze averted, eyes denied,
"Leave us in peace," he softly sighed,
As happiness and grief did collide.

The visitor sighed and turned away,
Happiness returned, the family allay,
It hid the truth of that fateful day,
When sorrow's grip had held its sway.

"No one wishes to be me," the visitor sighed,
In solitude, his pain could not hide,
He climbed the stairs, and tears reside,
Seeking solace, none could provide.

But 


At the end of the hall, a light aglow,
He knocked on the door, emotions in tow,
No answer came, so he let go,
Entered a room, a girl below.

She sat with music, and words in ink,
Her gaze met his, hearts on the brink,
Tears welled up, as sadness did link,
Their souls in turmoil, emotions to sync.

She rose, her music ceased to play,
Past the man, she made her way,
To join her family, in the light of day,
A smile broke through
The man's tears were gone.

"Thank you," she whispered, turning back,
Her gratitude, a simple, heartfelt track,
She raced downstairs, no sorrow to lack,
The visitor smiled at life's newfound knack.

Details | Garty Bowersox Poem

Sunlit Sea

The colorful waves of a sunlit sea
Can warm your heart for eternity
And the crashing sounds when water hits sand
Will fill your mind with thoughts of this land
A land where you could be free
From life pain and suffering 

Take a breath… 

look up, you’ll see
The colorful waves of your sunlit sea

Details | Garty Bowersox Poem

The Silent Struggles

No one knows
how much you’re struggling
until it’s too late,
when the weight of it all 
is a shadow too heavy to carry.

No one understands
how hard it is to speak
the unspeakable,
to let the words fall
like fragile glass
shattering across silence. 

Your pain
is a quiet echo,
a storm that no one hears
until it’s raging.

Your feelings 
are a tangled mess,
each thread too delicate
to untangle 
without losing something.

Your thoughts
are clouds in the sky,
drifting aimlessly,
afraid to settle
for fear of being caught

Your dreams
are whispers in the dark,
fading just as you reach for them,
too distant to touch
but too close to forget.

And still,
you carry them,
the weight that no one sees,
the quiet that fills the spaces
where words should be.
you wait 
until you realize 
that maybe there will be 
no moment
to speak.

Details | Garty Bowersox Poem

Between Us

Sometimes, it’s the way the light falls  
in the quiet hours,  
when the day is almost gone,  
and the shadows stretch out like secrets  
waiting to be whispered.  

It’s the soft hum of a song  
that plays only between us,  
the unspoken understanding  
that we don’t need to say everything  
to know everything.  

I’ve never wanted for much  
more than this:
the way you laugh when you’re not trying,  
how your eyes find mine across a room,  
the way the world feels  
a little softer,  
a little slower,  
when you’re near.  

There are no promises,  
no grand gestures,  
just this quiet knowing  
that some things  
don’t need words to be real.  

Maybe that’s the way it should be,  
how the best things
are never loud,  
but simply…  
here.