It Is Not Yet Over

It Is Not Yet Over short poem

Photo by h.koppdelaney

It is not yet over.
Not as long as I don’t want it to be.
If I am not patient,I’ll learn to be.
If I am not good enough,I’ll learn to be.
I’ll face dark,difficult times but I will keep walking.
I’ll get judged, be warned but I’ll keep walking.
I’ll get weak but I’ll draw strength from my weakness and keep walking.
I’ll walk and walk as I know happiness is in the road to success.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

1 Comment on "It Is Not Yet Over"

Notify of
avatar
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Slie
Member

Its not over yet….woooooow this was superb well done on your motivating poem..its realy did touched my soul

wpDiscuz

Not That Type Of Poem

Not That Type Of Poem long poem

Sorry death But I’m going to cheat on you With life that is She’s too beautiful With her crisp fresh air days And her sun filled rays In this poem This girl lives for another day I finally wake up

I Fear Not

I Fear Not short poem

As I leave this world, I worry not. I’ll simply move on to the next. I’ve been to many places will be to many more. What we see is not all there is. Realms upon realms there truly be. Existence

Love Over Hatred

Love Over Hatred short poem

Far away from the world of love, hatred and war There is yet another world breathing silently Thats the world of love we call. There holds no boundaries No caste or creed Its purely emotions swirling freely. No land is

I Am Not

I Am Not short poem

Time capsule in gangrene foot. It was madness of the legs. There were no sins in the ghetto. Only illicit distillation and girls changing the beds. It stinks when he says he was god. What was the ism of the

I Am Not

I Am Not short poem

Time capsule in gangrene foot. It was madness of the legs. There were no sins in the ghetto. Only illicit distillation and girls changing the beds. It stinks when he says he was god. What was the ism of the