A Reason For My Pride

A Reason For My Pride short poem

Photo by x1klima

Have I anything
To be proud about?
As an answer to my question
I don’t know where to start.

It seems to me as if,
All the little things I’ve done.
Have paid off in the end,
And the festivities, begun.

If cheering some-one up,
By saying something friendly.
Or encouraging some-one,
To help a friend I care for.

Proves to be enough,
To let emotions out,
Then, sure,
I have a lot of things.
To be proud about.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (5 votes, average: 2.80 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Anne Jauhari

Anne Jauhari

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I am a girl who loves English literature, Mathematics and French. The dull skies during the rainy season bring me the most joyous thoughts and feelings..
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

8 Comments on "A Reason For My Pride"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest
devanshi GUPTA

Its really amazing….keeeep riting

asoke kumar mitra

very thoughtful poem. style is good. keep on dear poetess.

ammu sachariah

Good one. Keep writing.

ramakrishnan chatakondu

Without making much fuss……..you have loads of talent to write beautiful poetries .

Viswas Menon

let me use your own lines….
“If you have anything to be proud of….”

then it is ….your talent….to express…keep it up..


Without Reason

Without Reason short poem

Living in a cyst, it would explore the breast. The black ethics goes beyond the bounds of mystique of non-movement. A while away a conflict comes out of the body. Melts into a face. There is no flesh, no skin.

My Only Friend

My Only Friend short poem

Am I Alive, or am I dead? Is this all just a dream inside my head? I feel like I’m losing my grip. Quick say something, anything before I slip. Nightmares slowly creeping. Has he finally come to do the

From My Journals ‘love’

From My Journals love short poem

The very essence of love is uncertain, A relentless thumping of the heart. I must speak to you by such means as they are within my reach. He pierces my soul driving me into madness. I am half agony, half

My Friend Crystal

My Friend Crystal long poem

I am the women that hasn’t been able to lose all her baby weight. I am the dad that works two jobs and always gets home late. I am the high school cheerleader trying to be someone shes not. I

From My Journals ‘anxiety’

From My Journals anxiety prose poem

The moon awaits eagerly in the same pedestal it ignited my passion. What lips, my lips have kissed, are long forgotten. The memories easily quickened as a few puddles along the way I voluntarily stepped in. What arms have lain