There is something special about writing or reading poems with deeper meanings. They make you think, make you discover new things about yourself, and allow you to be more creative. This list of poems we compiled will not only make you think for days but will touch your heart and soul too. Happy reading!
Deep Poems
1. The Sun
The sun, of fire and beauty
Destruction and life.
Something so magnificent,
You can’t even look at it.
My son, of fire and passion
Life, until death.
Something so magnificent,
You can’t look away.
Maybe we don’t look at the sun,
Because we are afraid that we
Might not be able to let go
Of the beauty, that might just end up,
Destroying us.
2. My Credo Of Life
By: Pat A. Fleming
Let me live within the moment.
Let me feel all that I can.
Let me cherish life for all it’s worth,
With everything I am.
Let me see what’s right in front of me,
With vision crystal clear.
And face what’s waiting there for me,
With no hesitance or fear.
May I wake each day with gratitude,
For all my life may be.
And always feel that wonderment
At the world surrounding me.
May I welcome any strangers
With an open heart and mind.
And always stand for what is right
With all the strength that I can find.
Let me forgive myself for my mistakes,
While forgiving others theirs.
And never grow indifferent
But always strive to care.
Let me not forget what matters
In the scheme of every day,
To live each precious moment
In a kind and loving way.
For this moment now is everything,
Nothing matters but today.
So I’ll willingly embrace it
And not let it slip away.
For it passes all so quickly,
And one chance is all we get.
And a life of wasted moments
Is a life filled with regrets.
3. It’s Fine Today
By: Douglas Malloch
Sure, this world is full of trouble
I ain’t said it ain’t.
Lord, I’ve had enough and double
Reason for complaint,
Rain and storm have come to fret me,
Skies are often gray,
Thorns and brambles have beset me
On the road but say,
Ain’t it fine today?
What’s the use of always weepin’,
Making trouble last?
What’s the use of always keepin’
Thinkin’ of the past?
Each must have his tribulation
Water with his wine,
Life, it ain’t no celebration,
Trouble? I’ve had mine
But today is fine.
It’s today that I am livin’,
Not a month ago.
Havin’, osin’, takin’, givin’,
As time wills it so.
Yesterday a cloud of sorrow
Fell across the way,
It may rain again tomorrow,
It may rain but say,
Ain’t it fine today?
4. What Life Should Be
By: Pat A. Fleming
To learn while still a child
What this life is meant to be.
To know it goes beyond myself,
It’s so much more than me.
To overcome the tragedies,
To survive the hardest times.
To face those moments filled with pain,
And still manage to be kind.
To fight for those who can’t themselves,
To always share my light.
With those who wander in the dark,
To love with all my might.
To still stand up with courage,
Though standing on my own.
To still get up and face each day,
Even when I feel alone.
To try to understand the ones
That no one cares to know.
And make them feel some value
When the world has let them go.
To be an anchor, strong and true,
That person loyal to the end.
To be a constant source of hope
To my family and my friends.
To live a life of decency,
To share my heart and soul.
To always say I’m sorry
When I’ve harmed both friend and foe.
To be proud of whom I’ve tried to be,
And this life I chose to live.
To make the most of every day
By giving all I have to give.
To me that’s what this life should be,
To me that’s what it’s for.
To take what God has given me
And make it so much more
To live a life that matters,
To be someone of great worth.
To love and be loved in return
And make my mark on Earth.
5. Remember
By: Dawn Jensen
As I walk through life,
I look at all I have done.
I had wandered aimlessly,
And wondered what I have become.
I have been through so much.
It is amazing I made it through.
Lessons I have learned.
I am shocked I pulled through.
At times I wondered
What life was all about.
The trials experienced in life
Can make all the good come out.
We try to make it day by day,
Remembering what we were taught.
Just remember some time to pray.
It is important;
We need it every day.
Life can be short,
Unexpected at that.
We try to take its punches,
Just hoping it won’t break our back.
Remember who you are,
Who you want to become.
Everything will fall into place,
When the time comes.
Don’t forget I love you’s
Every chance you get.
The time may be short.
There is no time to regret.
Life can be exciting,
As we all have found out,
Eventful, even busy.
There is no time to be left out.
Remember who you are
And who you want to become.
The time can be short.
Don’t leave things undone.
Remember your families,
They are the only ones you’ve got
To carry you in times of need.
They cannot be bought.
Remember they love you,
Either here or there.
They will always be with us,
Help for things to bear.
6. My Dream Girl
By: Deep Dark Soul Poet
Her eyes are so innocent,
trusting with her heart,
soft voice soothing you,
honesty from the start.
Movements like the wind,
carry her in and out
of varied moods of love and sadness,
shown in lips that pout.
Her body, sultry as it sways,
towards her heart’s desire,
fingers touch within a soul
starting the endless fire.
Smooth the passion she carries
deeply hidden- in plain sight,
a lady, warm in daylights glow,
a poet through-out the night.
So, if you see her singing soft,
choose to stay, or go,
but if you stay, your heart is lost,
paradise you’ll always know.
7. Its Always Dark Here
By: Deep Dark Soul Poet
It is always dark here,
I stand here alone with the lights turned off,
reaching for the existence that I want on my fingertips.
I hear the voices through the darkness calling out to me
Strange.
I feel my whole body grow cold
It is always dark here,
in this room of perpetual fate.
The all so loud bustle of the world outside
barely touches the noise in my head.
My thoughts are like a scar I keep rubbing,
a reminder of things that shouldn’t be forgotten.
Breathing cuts me from the inside out.
It is always dark here,
where dream and nightmare become part of a living world.
My sighs reach out among wailing voices
waiting for the touch of a lover who will never be.
It is always dark here
even with the sun in my eyes, I see the hidden lies
drying tears that have yet to touch my cheeks.
Shadow eats away at the place beneath where my body resides.
I dream, scream and awake day after day.
No matter where I go it is always the same-
It is always dark here,
I’m floating in a circle and in it there are knives,
I’m crying in a whirlwind, except there are no skies.
There’s blackness all around me,
I cannot break it down.
They wound me very deeply, though I will not make a sound.
It is always dark here,
There’s only darkness here,
the sunshine goes away,
but still I keep on waiting here,
this is where I stay.
This is where my heart is,
wounded as it may be.
It is always dark here,
The darkness cannot touch me here,
the darkness cannot see they’ve stolen my blue skies.
I hope the sunshine saves the moon,
it must tell me of its crime,
waiting in the darkness here,
the darkness tells no time
8. Sinking
By: Deep Dark Soul Poet
Down in the water
By the edge of the river
where I ponder my life
just how did I get to this
Down in the water
By the edge of the river
where the waterfall of dreams
sweeps away what’s left to the abyss
Down in the water
by the edge of the river
where time stands still
Just only forever.
Down in the water
by the edge of the river
where I buried all
that was ever childhood
Where I let it go,
where it bends and meanders,
twisting along as the years went past.
Seemingly calm, but screaming beneath the surface
were its hidden whirlpools, a sweeping current
Down in the water,
I left the edge of the river,
as I looked down
for my soul at the bottom.
Deep in the water
Swept away by the river
I drowned in life,
sinking forever.
9. Fifth Season
By: Deep Dark Soul Poet
The murky blues and fumes,
When fresh air comes to blow these issues away
But the breath of fresh air crawls past me.
I surrender to its awful implications.
I wish I could appear stronger.
I wish I could leave as a man.
But I cannot say a word.
Can not utter a single sound.
I’m too much in love with misery.
So to misery I travel again.
Wish it wasn’t so.
Wish it wasn’t me.
Wish I could live but as it is,
I cut my hair.
I cut my nails.
I cut my heart.
Nothing bleeds.
Nothing hurts.
Nothing feels.
Everything in me is like a breath
of stale coffee.
A touch of moulding cigarettes.
Summer comes and goes.
Winter brings defeat.
Spring is fresh flowers.
Autumn is their death.
Like me.
I cry.
I sleep.
I die inside.
10. Walk In The Dark
By: Deep Dark Soul Poet
Walk along with me into the darkness of the night
don’t leave me alone in such a lifeless town
everyone gone from what was beauty turned into invisible light
miles and miles we have come
here we are stopped under the only street light
please dance with me
we may never see home so hold me in your arms
let me cry upon your shoulder
keep me away from all the harm
this disease may have taken everyone we love
but I know some how
an angel will save us from the dark gray skies we see above
so the last minutes of our time we may have
lets hold against the sickness with all we have left to fight
as we dance away into the darkness of the night
11. My Sweet Darkness
By: Deep Dark Soul Poet
My sweet darkness invades my soul
Loving others and destroying me
Becoming the goal of the whole
She knocks me to my bloody knees
I am clean like the rickety old house
She must fulfil those nasty needs
I am willing to be the honourable louse
She ignores my living seeds
She has my honour and love
I own her nightly cries till morning comes
I would love her like a baby and a dove
In her eyes I stay in the slums
Her touch of corruption is never attained
My sadness is given no relief
The spirit is completely drained
My time here will be brief
12. Eyes Of Darkness
By: Deep Dark Soul Poet
I peer into your windows
The darkness of your eyes
Lead me to your soul
A dark and entwined
Deep rooted heart
The envy of the world
A lot of pain locked up in there
And still you seem to smile
A smile that could unlock a thousand doors
To happiness for others to find
13. Murky Black
By: Deep Dark Soul Poet
A murky blackness radiating
from the depths of my mind.
From the shadows to the air,
Together they entwine.
A greater evil of which, has never been known,
Its presence sends a sensation far deeper then skin or bone.
Painful memories and suicidal thoughts erupt.
Even the most pure, shall become corrupt.
Many will be blinded by lies, for years to come.
The truth shall be seen by few, maybe even none.
Everything we know.
Everything we are.
Every time we bleed.
Every little scare.
False memories dance within my head.
I remember every tear, I ever shed
Falling endlessly
through sudden darkness.
Light was perished
before my eyes.
Life and meaning are forgotten
in this lightless tide.
Love was vanquished,
but not the memory.
Hope was destroyed,
and with it,
the light of the heart
was thrown into the shadows.
It’s like I was dying
I was seeing my life flashing
14. The Road Not Taken
By: Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence,
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
15. The New Colossus
By: Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land.
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp, cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
16. Ozymandias
By: Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said, two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear.
‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings.
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair.
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
17. Ode on a Grecian Urn
By: John Keats
Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare
Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair.
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu.
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new,
More happy love! more happy, happy love.
For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d,
For ever panting, and for ever young,
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be, and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.
O Attic shape, fair attitude, with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed,
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity, Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,
Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
19. The Tiger
By: William Blake
Tiger Tiger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears.
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tiger Tiger burning bright,
In the forests of the night.
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
19. On His Blindness
By: John Milton
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
Doth God exact day labour, light denied.
I fondly ask. but patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts, who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly, thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest.
They also serve who only stand and wait.
20. Daffodils
By: William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay.
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company.
I gazed and gazed but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought.
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
21. Death, Be Not Proud
By: John Donne
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more, death, thou shalt die.
22. Sonnet 18
By: William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate,
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date,
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimm’d,
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.