Most Commented Inspirational Poems (4,948)

Once upon a time there was a girl name Me,
She had none a Friend and one less an Enemy,
She grew up in a place called Nowhere,
Where inspiration was not Anywhere,
She had a Family that did Nothing,
That She wish would do Something.

Every-night She would sit in a corner of Her room and pray,
For just one small Blessing, to come Her way,
Sometimes She even cried as She sat there and Prayed,
Neither a time, from Her Prayers, have She Strayed,
Time crept by and left Her Prayers unanswered,
But with effort, She knew they would be answered.

Meanwhile,She grabbed pen and paper to write Her thoughts down,
She placed them in a notebook and it followed Her around,
She felt sad, She wrote about it, She felt happy, She wrote about it,
Everything that She felt, She wrote about it,
Time went by and She began to lose Faith,
Her past coming back, like an Aching wraith.

Nearing the End of Her notebook She scrawled,
"Why Have You Left My Prayers Unanswered??" Her Faith stalled,
That night She dreamed of Herself writing, just nonstop writing,
Morning came, Her eyes fall upon the notebook, embraced in sunlight, so inviting
She began to read, She started to weep, She Begged for Forgiveness,
There in the words, resided Her Blessing, Hidden by Her own Absentmindedness.

So on the Last page, with a smile, She wrote "I AM a Poet."
And hopefully Her Faith will always remind Her of it.

The End.

Grief and sorrow will always pass but your love inside will never die. No one can tell you who to love as no rules apply,but always rember it works for others too. Life goes on and we learn each day,the life you live,the air you breath,the joy that makes you cry,and the sorrow that makes you want to die,is all of lifes mix. So my friend rember your happy times and let grief and sorrow pass.

an outstretched hand
a cutting stare
a warm apology
through the boy
grows a man.......

Though nothing much remains,
Gone too are the chains,
That bound me to this place,
Now I see open space,
Cuz I still have my sight,
And I still have my life,
Yes I still live and breathe,
Despite their wicked deeds,
So they can take my things,
But I'll still laugh and sing,
Cuz I can start anew,
No matter what they do!
w.b. JS

Of all of the greatest monuments ever created by man...
One still stands in a land so grand...
Gods hands created fine DNA strands...
He had his best day ever when he wove you...

Sequentially perfected patterns golden...
Words not yet discovered spoken...
Stone blocks chosen mysteriously stacked...
And yet this marvelous creation is nothing compared to your flawless epicanthic folds....

upon the fiddle
play it long enough you will
become the fiddler

Ode to Poets Corner


Over here in our corner
Dwell mighty Poets
Each one a true star

To each their own style
Oh heck brain overload

Poets in clover maybe
Or yet in deep dispair
Edit that word right now
The lines form too slowly
Some never rhyming

Correcting, we slash it out
Oh yes, of course, Eurika
Realising our mistake
Next verse popping out
Each word a celebration of
Rymhe, rhythm and reason

walking through the woods
dusk falling under trees
arched like soldiers
nights calliing
looking up eeriely
white milky smiling
through the gap
the moon clowns
dusk falling smiles
in the bay
beautiful reflection of lights
sparkling like diamonds
the reflection of mountains
natures looking glass
creating the image of shadows
the trees arms arched at the side
twisted with the age of centuries
looking down eereily
beautiful reality
driving away breathtaking
three deer crossing the road
blinded by the lights
stopping one,two three
staring into their eyes
turning their head after distraction
a pause in time
walking out of a vision
a living memory
shared with my view

As I wandered in Wordsworth's foot steps
stared in fascination at his cottage
and wondered at the simple life he led
I felt very honoured and privileged.

What an awe inspiring spot to live
the craggy wild hills keeping sentry
I had to go back in my mind to his time
and remember there were no cars or buses.

Such a blissful place with inspiration
flowing all around as the lake nestles
so serenely below the towering spire
which keeps watch over his resting place.

I wish that I could have sat at his feet
my poetic journey would then be complete.

words sung
on heartfelt strings
amongst the chatter
and forks that ring
but your voice whispers through
the vocal maze
enlightening my ears
steeling my gaze
soothing my soul
to nourish me whole
appeasing the fire
that quells inside
lyrics of gold
you cannot hide
a path well worn
into the night
a journey of passion
a winter's delight .......