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Best Poems Written by Dylan Thomas

Below are the all-time best Dylan Thomas poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Fourteen Feels Like Falling

I turned fourteen, the world turned cold,
The light I knew felt strange, controlled.
They said these years would shape my soul—
But all I feel is lost and old.

I used to laugh, just ‘cause I could,
Run wild in every neighborhood.
Now I just scroll, or lie awake,
Pretending none of this can break.

The mirror’s cruel, my thoughts are loud,
I shrink beneath an unseen cloud.
A thousand voices in my head,
Some scream, some whisper, all see red.

They say, “You’re young, you’ve got the time,”
But why does breathing feel like crime?
Why does the morning taste like rust?
Why do I find it hard to trust?

Friends drift off like mist at dawn,
No goodbye, just gone is gone.
And those who stay don’t see me whole—
They joke around, ignore my soul.

School’s a blur of stress and shame,
Trying hard to play the game.
Smiles are masks, and grades are chains,
And no one cares about the pain.

I see their lives online each night—
Perfect faces, filtered light.
They’re laughing loud while I feel small,
Like I don’t really count at all.

They don’t know how it feels inside—
This heaviness I cannot hide.
I fake the “fine,” I nod, I try,
But part of me just wants to cry.

I miss the kid I used to be—
The one who ran, the one who dreamed.
Now I just wish to disappear,
Or scream so loud that someone hears.

But still I write, and still I speak,
Even when I’m feeling weak.
And maybe that’s the strongest part—
Still standing with a shattered heart.

If you’re fourteen and feel this way,
Like joy’s a game you just can’t play—
I want you to know you’re not alone.
We’re out here too, just barely grown.

It’s okay to not be okay,
To hate the world some nights, some days.
But don’t give up, don’t dim your spark—
Even stars are born in dark.

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Tears Of The Truth

The tears of losing a lover are unlike any other, they run down your cheeks just that little bit faster, those thoughts telling you you’ll never get past her, they twist and turn your mind for the worse until you feel as though you’ve got nothing to live for. You feel like there’s a hole in your heart, a feeling you can’t restore, and when you finally feel you’ve found peace with yourself, you are left with the thought that you are alone, and that’s when it hurts more than you could’ve ever known. - Dylan J. Thomas

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The Consequences Of Love

Love is a virtue, love is a curse, it can be for the better, or for the worse, love can take a heavy toll, love can sometimes take control, but love is flexible, love can be changed, relying on love, makes people no longer the same. Love you hope to receive for all time, love is a mountain I won’t dare to climb, love I need, but with love comes greed, and greed I have for the love I am given, by love I am driven, so I lose said love and I try to move on, when in love I feel I always have something to prove. - Dylan J. Thomas

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The Weight Of Enough

I look at my life like it doesn’t belong,
Like I’m just a thief in a story gone wrong.
These hands hold too much, these gifts feel unearned,
Like fate made a glitch, or grace was mislearned.

I see others struggle, I see others strive,
While I float through moments just barely alive.
And the voice in my head says, “You’re taking up space—
Give it to someone with more of a place.”

What if I left, so someone could rise?
What if my absence would open the skies?
Would the world breathe easier, lighter, more fair,
If I stepped aside, vanished into air?

But here’s the truth I try to ignore:
Pain doesn’t balance by offering more.
You don’t fix the world by falling apart,
You don’t lift the load by breaking your heart.

What you have isn’t theft—it’s a thread in the weave,
And the world would not heal if you chose to leave.
You are not wrong for being alive.
You don’t have to suffer so others survive.

So stay—for a breath, for a moment, for now.
You don’t have to know why, or even know how.
But stay, even hurting. Stay, even small.
You matter. You’re human. That’s more than it all.

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A Quiet Wish

Sometimes I feel like a shadow at noon,
Too loud in the silence, too sharp in the room.
Like if I just vanished, a ghost on the breeze,
The world might move on with a sigh and some ease.

I picture the smiles that might stretch a bit longer,
If I weren’t around—would their laughter grow stronger?
Would the sky be more blue, the nights less cold?
Would life feel lighter if my story was untold?

I carry this thought like a stone in my chest,
Wondering if absence could offer them rest.
But pain can be tricky, it whispers untrue,
It tells you you’re poison when you’re just feeling blue.

I don’t want a sermon, just space to exhale,
To say what I feel without judgment or scale.
Not to be fixed, not to be blamed,
Just for the hurt to have a name.

And if I say this, maybe—just maybe—
Someone will answer, soft and steady:
You matter. You do. More than you know.
And this world would dim if you let go.

Details | Dylan Thomas Poem

The Sky Remembered

When I look up to the sky
I do not see the sun,
I do not see the moon,
Their brilliance long since done.

I see a canvas veiled in gray,
Where stars once softly burned,
Now memories of yesterday—
To silence they have turned.

No dawn to break the endless shade,
No dusk to fold the light,
Just echoes where the cosmos played
Before it fled the night.

Yet still I lift my eyes each day,
Though hope may seem undone,
For even in a sky gone dark,
The dreaming has begun.

Details | Dylan Thomas Poem

Behind The Curtain

I hold my silence like a sword,
In battles no one sees me fight.
My tears are ghosts behind closed doors,
They only visit in the night.

A smile’s the armor that I wear,
Each laugh rehearsed, each word in line.
No one suspects, no one can stare
Into the cracks I call “I’m fine.”

My throat is raw from swallowed storms,
But still, I speak with steady grace.
I’ve learned to mimic human forms—
To leave no trace upon my face.

Not weakness, no—it’s self-defense,
A wall I built when I was small.
To cry is to invite suspense,
And risk the shame of letting fall.

So I retreat to silent rooms,
Where shadows are my only peers,
And let my grief bloom into fumes
In private pools of unshed tears.

You’ll never see the floods I hide,
The way I drown behind this screen.
I cannot let the world decide
What tender ever really means.

So if I break, I break alone—
No witness to the quiet war.
The world will never hear my moan,
Or find the softness at my core.

Details | Dylan Thomas Poem

Never Enough

I wake up heavy, hollow-eyed,
a war inside I cannot hide.
My chest is full of aching glass,
each breath I take, a splintered gasp.

I try to speak, but words betray—
they twist my truth, then slip away.
They say, “Just love yourself, be kind.”
But how do you hug what you can’t find?

I look for worth in others’ eyes,
but all I see are blurred goodbyes.
I give too much, I break, I bend,
and wonder why I’m not the end
they choose to stay for, hold, defend—
I’m always just the in-between.

I wear a mask too thick to peel,
a smile that lies, “I’m fine, I heal.”
But I’m unraveling at the seams,
a stitched-up soul with silent screams.

I scream in silence every night,
a voice that knows it has no right.
To need, to want, to just exist
without conditions, without lists.

How do you love a heart so torn?
How do you hold what self has scorned?
I search for proof I’m more than pain,
but all I find is rust and rain.

Still… I wake. I rise. I try.
I walk beneath a darkened sky
and hope, just maybe, if I stay—
I’ll learn to love a piece someday.