16 Poems About Life Struggles
Be encouraged by these poems about life struggles. At times we feel like we are the only ones facing a struggle. But everyone on this planet
has been faced with challenges and obstacles that make life feel like a struggle. The difference is how we handle it, what our attitude is like
toward the issue. Let these poems give you words to consider.
Let these poems help you during your challenges; let the experience of others offer you some wisdom on how to face life's struggles.
Short Poems / Poems About Life
/ Poems About Life Struggles - Related: Inspirational Quotes About Life and Struggles
Bumpy Road Called Life
Poet Julie Hebert, ©2015
It seems to me the road called life,
Is a windy, bumpy road.
It's not easy like told in fairytales,
Life can't be changed by kissing a toad.
Instead we must weigh the odds,
About every decision we make.
We worry we'll make the wrong choice,
And not know which way to take.
Although life's road may have many crossroads,
We just have to trust in God and instinct.
Life may be a constant question mark,
But if you listen you may hear yourself.
You are the one who knows You,
And the God given gifts that inspire you.
No matter the fear or the conflict,
If you listen, life will fit like a shoe.
Poet: Edgar Guest
Ain't no use as I can see
In sittin' underneath a tree
An' growlin' that your luck is bad,
An' that your life is extry sad;
Your life ain't sadder than your neighbor's
Nor any harder are your labors;
It rains on him the same as you,
An' he has work he hates to do;
An' he gits tired an' he gits cross,
An' he has trouble with the boss;
You take his whole life, through an' through,
Why, he's no better off than you.
If whinin' brushed the clouds away
I wouldn't have a word to say;
If it made good friends out o' foes
I'd whine a bit, too, I suppose;
But when I look around an' see
A lot o' men resemblin' me,
An' see 'em sad, an' see 'em gay
With work to do most every day,
Some full o' fun, some bent with care,
Some havin' troubles hard to bear,
I reckon, as I count my woes,
They're 'bout what everybody knows.
The day I find a man who'll say
He's never known a rainy day,
Who'll raise his right hand up an' swear
In forty years he's had no care,
Has never had a single blow,
An' never known one touch o' woe,
Has never seen a loved one die,
Has never wept or heaved a sigh,
Has never had a plan go wrong,
But alas laughed his way along;
Then I'll sit down an'start to whine
That all the hard luck here is mine.
Sunshine And Shadow
Poet: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Life has its shadows, as well as its sun;
Its lights and its shades, all twined together.
I tried to single them out, one by one,
Single and count them, determining whether
There was less blue than there was grey,
And more of the deep night than of the day.
But dear me, dear me, my task's but begun,
And I am not half way into the sun.
For the longer I look on the bright side of earth,
The more of the beautiful do I discover
And really, I never knew what life was worth
Till I searched the wide storehouse of happiness over.
It is filled from the cellar well up to the skies,
With things meant to gladden the heart and the eyes.
The doors are unlocked, you can enter each room,
That lies like a beautiful garden in bloom.
Yet life has its shadow, as well as its sun;
Earth has its storehouse of joy and of sorrow.
But the first is so wide - and my task's but begun -
That the last must be left for a far-distant morrow.
I will count up the blessings God gave in a row,
But dear me! when I get through them, I know
I shall have little time left for the rest,
For life is a swift-flowing river at best.
Life Is Full Of Struggles
Poet Catherine Pulsifer, ©2020
There are days that truly bring us down
We sit and mop and constantly frown
The issues we face right now are overwhelming
We feel like jumping up and running.
But running away doesn't take away the pain
Running away only makes us feel more drained
Find that glimmer of hope
Focus on that it will help you cope.
Rather than sitting and feeling sad
Take action don't get mad
Find a way to take one step
Towards the thing called happiness.
You see life is full of struggles and hurt
There are times we all feel like dirt.
But don't stay down, get up and find
A change of thought of the positive kind.
It may not be easy to get back on your feet
But moving forward, step by step can be sweet.
One foot in front of the other can be
Better than sitting and pouting you will see.
So even though the struggles you face
Don't give in and lose the pace.
Let your determination show
Even if your progress is slow.
The day will come when good times roll
One step at a time you will reach your goal
So when you see a challenge coming your way
Remember this too shall pass, you shall say!
The Rainy Day
Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall.
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast.
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall.
Some days must be dark and dreary.
Busy The Hand To Still The Heart
Poet: Lillian E. Curtis
When the world looks dark, and the heart beats swift,
O'ercome with many a piercing dart,
Then bid patience her magic wand up-lift,
And busy the hand to still the heart.
When the heart is bubbling over with sorrow,
And throbs of anguish thro' each nerve start.
Questioning Hope in vain for a bright to-morrow.
Then busy the hand to still the heart.
When on the edge of despair you sit,
From steadfast Faith apart.
When the lamp of Courage's no longer lit,
Busy the hand to still the heart.
When the roughest storms that life may know,
Cause trembling and fear to start,
When tempests of strife all hurriedly blow,
Busy the hand to still the heart.
A Psalm Of Life
Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tell me not, in mournful numbers.
Life is but an empty dream! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers.
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul!
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave.
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, — act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God overhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing.
Learn to labor and to wait.
Poet: Edgar Nye
When the burdens of life get too heavy
And what should be sweet seems as gall,
I go on a soul-cleansing journey
That shows me the need of it all.
Away from Life's troubled pathway,
Through the valley and up the hill,
To the peak of a lofty summit where
The pulse of the world stands still;
There I see God's love all about me
In the wonderful things He has made,
And peacefully return from the Silence
To take up my life unafraid.
Don't Take It To Heart
Poet: Harry Birch
There's many a trouble
Would break like a bubble,
And into the waters of Lethe depart,
Did we not rehearse it,
And tenderly nurse it,
And give it a permanent place in our heart.
There's many a sorrow
Would vanish to-morrow,
Were we not unwilling to furnish the wings;
So, sadly intruding
And quickly brooding,
It hatches out all sorts of horrible things.
How welcome the seeming
Of looks that are beaming,
Whether one's wealthy or whether one's poor;
Eyes bright as a berry,
Cheeks red as a cherry,
The groan and the curse and the heart-ache can cure.
Resolve to be merry,
All worry- to ferry
Across the famed waters that bid us forget;
And no longer tearful,
But happy and cheerful,
We feel life has much that's worth living for yet.
Troubles Pass By
Poet: Francis J. Allison
A crowd of troubles passed him by
As he with courage waited;
He said, "Where do you troubles fly
When you are thus belated?"
"We go," they say, "to those who mope,
Who look on life dejected,
Who weakly say 'good-bye' to hope,
We go where we're expected."
Poet: Susan Coolidge
Let me stand still upon the height of life;
Much has been won, though much there is to win.
I am a little weary of the strife;
Let me stand still awhile, nor count it sin
To cool my hot brow, ease the travel pain.
And then address me to the road again.
Long was the way, and steep and hard the climb;
Sore are my limbs, and fain I am to rest.
Behind me he long sandy tracks of time;
Before me rises the steep mountain crest.
Let me stand still: the journey is half done.
And when less weary I will travel on.
There is no standing still! Even as I pause,
The steep path shifts and I slip back apace.
Movement was safety; by the journey-laws
No help is given, no safe abiding-place,
No idling in the pathway hard and slow;
I must go forward, or must backward go!
I will go up then, though the limbs may tire,
And though the path be doubtful and unseen;
Better with the last effort to expire
Than lose the toil and struggle that have been.
And have the morning strength, the upward strain.
The distance conquered, in the end made vain.
Ah, blessed law! for rest is tempting sweet,
And we would all lie down if so we might;
And few would struggle on with bleeding feet
And few would ever gain the higher height.
Except for the stern law which bids us know
We must go forward or must backward go.
Storms Never Last
Poet: J. B. Smiley
When the sun of joy is hidden
And the sky is overcast,
Just remember light is coming
And a storm can never last.
Little Patch Of Blue
Sometimes the rain keeps fallin'
And the road seems mighty rough,
And you just can't help a-thinkin'
That this life is pretty tough.
Just you smile and keep a-lookin'
What I'm telling you is true,
Somewhere peepin' thru the rain-clouds
There's a little patch o' blue.
'Taint no use to keep a-frettin'
Full of shadows, fear and doubt;
Each path that's leading into trouble
Has a path that's leading out!
If your face is bravely smilin'
Yes - I know it's hard to do,
But you'll surely find that somewhere
There's a little patch o' blue.
Someone has to keep a-smilin'
And a-singing, don't you see?
For if everyone looked gloomy,
What a place this world would be!
Sure! you've had a heap of trouble -
And I've had some trouble, too;
But you'll find if you keep smilin'
God's own little patch o' blue.
Poet: R. N. Livingston
There is no permanence in sorrow -
The weeping eyes so blinded now by tears
Will see all things with clearer view tomorrow
With strengthened vision meet the coming years!
There is no reason for despairing,
Hopes rides with each of us to show the way -
As pearls increase in brilliance with their wearing.
So may our troubles strengthen us today!
There is no bark beyond dispelling -
All shadows fade before the ways of light
The part that makes most stories worth the telling
Is of the overcoming of the night!
There is no grief that dares defiance
The brave know this and laugh its way to scorn -
Courage and cheer and faith and self-reliance
These are things to which a man is born.
Facing Life's Problems
by Lawrence Hawthorne
There is little satisfaction to be gained from doing things
That hold no difficulties; it's the tough old task that brings
A keen sense of worth and power to the man who wins the fight.
His failures test his courage and his problems prove his might.
Until a man has conquered loss, and overcome defeat,
He cannot fully understand just why success is sweet.
I'm thankful for my disappointments, for the battles lost;
And for the mistakes that seem to charge an overwhelming cost.
I'm thankful for the days of doubt, when it was hard to see
That all things work together for the good that is to be.
I'm glad for all that life has brought, because today I know
That men must brave adversities, if they would greater grow.
Poet: Edgar A. Guest
Nobody hates me more than I;
No enemy have I to-day
That I so bravely must defy;
There are no foes along my way,
However bitter they may be,
So powerful to injure me
As I am, nor so quick to spoil
The beauty of my bit of toil.
Nobody harms me more than I;
No one is meaner unto me;
Of all the foes that pass me by
I am the worst one that I see.
I am the dangerous man to fear;
I am the cause of sorrow here;
Of all men 'gainst my hopes inclined
I am myself the most unkind.
I do more harmful things to me
Than all the men who seem to hate;
I am the fellow that should be
More dreaded than the works of fate.
I am the one that I must fight
With all my will and all my might;
My foes are better friends to me
Than I have ever proved to be.
I am the careless foe and mean;
I am the selfish rival too;
My enmity to me is seen
In almost everything I do.
More courage it requires to beat
Myself, than all the foes I meet;
I am more traitorous to me
Than other men could ever be.
In every struggle I have lost
I am the one that was to blame;
My weaknesses cannot be glossed
By glib excuses. I was lame.
I that would dare for fame or pelf
Am far less daring with myself.
I care not who my foes may be,
I am my own worst enemy.
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