Have you ever felt overlooked or questioned your self-worth?
Imagine discovering words that resonate so deeply, they ignite a spark within you.
These 10 empowering poems celebrate the beauty of self-worth and encourage us to embrace who we truly are.
Let’s jump right in!
My favorite poem about self-worth
#1 “I Will Be Worthy of It” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I may not reach the heights I seek,
My untried strength may fail me;
Or, half-way up the mountain peak
Fierce tempests may assail me.
But though that place I never gain,
Herein lies comfort for my pain —
I will be worthy of it.
I may not triumph in success,
Despite my earnest labour;
I may not grasp results that bless
The efforts of my neighbour.
But though my goal I never see,
This thought shall always dwell with me—
I will be worthy of it.
The golden glory of Love’s light
May never fall on my way;
My path may always lead through night,
Like some deserted byway.
But though life’s dearest joy I miss
There lies a nameless strength in this —
I will be worthy of it.
This poem resonated with me because of the acknowledgment of struggles and the repeated affirmation, “I will be worthy of it,” reminded me that our self-worth isn’t tied to success or recognition.
It encourages us to embrace our journeys, no matter how difficult because once we survived all those, we will surely come out of them better where no societal definition of what’s ‘worthy’ can define us.
9 more poems about self-worth
#2 “I Am the World” by Dora Sigerson Shorter
I am the song, that rests upon the cloud;
I am the sun;
I am the dawn, the day, the hiding shroud,
When dusk is done.
I am the changing colours of the tree;
The flower uncurled;
I am the melancholy of the sea;
I am the world.
The other souls that, passing in their place,
Each in his groove;
Outstretching hands that chain me and embrace,
Speak and reprove.
‘O atom of that law, by which the earth
Is poised and whirled;
Behold! you hurrying with the crowd assert
You are the world.’
Am I not one with all the things that be
Warm in the sun?
All that my ears can hear, or eyes can see,
Till all be done.
Of song and shine, of changing leaf apart,
Of bud uncurled:
With all the senses pulsing at my heart,
I am the world.
One day the song that drifts upon the wind
I shall not hear:
Nor shall the rosy shoots to eyes grown blind
Again appear.
Deaf, in the dark, I shall arise and throw
From off my soul
The withered world with all its joy and woe,
That was my goal.
I shall arise, and like a shooting star
Slip from my place;
So lingering see the old world from afar
Revolve in space.
And know more things than all the wise may know
Till all be done;
Till One shall come who, breathing on the stars,
Blows out the sun.
#3 “I Am” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I know not whence I came,
I know not whither I go
But the fact stands clear that I am here
In this world of pleasure and woe.
And out of the mist and murk,
Another truth shines plain.
It is in my power each day and hour
To add to its joy or its pain.
I know that the earth exists,
It is none of my business why.
I cannot find out what it’s all about,
I would but waste time to try.
My life is a brief, brief thing,
I am here for a little space.
And while I stay I would like, if I may,
To brighten and better the place.
The trouble, I think, with us all
Is the lack of a high conceit.
If each man thought he was sent to this spot
To make it a bit more sweet,
How soon we could gladden the world,
How easily right all wrong.
If nobody shirked, and each one worked
To help his fellows along.
Cease wondering why you came–
Stop looking for faults and flaws.
Rise up to day in your pride and say,
“I am part of the First Great Cause!
However full the world
There is room for an earnest man.
It had need of me or I would not be,
I am here to strengthen the plan.”
#4 “Myself” by Edgar A. Guest
I have to live with myself and so
I want to be fit for myself to know.
I want to be able as days go by,
always to look myself straight in the eye;
I don’t want to stand with the setting sun
and hate myself for the things I have done.
I don’t want to keep on a closet shelf
a lot of secrets about myself
and fool myself as I come and go
into thinking no one else will ever know
the kind of person I really am,
I don’t want to dress up myself in sham.
I want to go out with my head erect
I want to deserve all men’s respect;
but here in the struggle for fame and wealth
I want to be able to like myself.
I don’t want to look at myself and know
I am bluster and bluff and empty show.
I never can hide myself from me;
I see what others may never see;
I know what others may never know,
I never can fool myself and so,
whatever happens I want to be
self respecting and conscience free.
#5 “As I Walked By Myself” by Mother Goose
As I walked by myself
And talked to myself,
Myself said unto me,
Look to thyself,
Take care of thyself,
For nobody cares for thee.
I answered myself,
And said to myself,
In the selfsame repartee,
Look to thyself,
Or not look to thyself,
The selfsame thing will be.
#6 “I Am Like a Rose” by D. H. Lawrence (David Herbert Richards)
I am myself at last; now I achieve
My very self. I, with the wonder mellow,
Full of fine warmth, I issue forth in clear
And single me, perfected from my fellow.
Here I am all myself. No rose-bush heaving
Its limpid sap to culmination, has brought
Itself more sheer and naked out of the green
In stark-clear roses, than I to myself am brought.
#7 “I Took My Power In My Hand” by Emily Dickinson
I took my Power in my Hand—
And went against the World—
‘Twas not so much as David—had—
But I—was twice as bold—
I aimed by Pebble—but Myself
Was all the one that fell—
Was it Goliath—was too large—
Or was myself—too small?
#8 “A Minor Poet” by Stephen Vincent Benét
I am a shell. From me you shall not hear
The splendid tramplings of insistent drums,
The orbed gold of the viol’s voice that comes,
Heavy with radiance, languorous and clear.
Yet, if you hold me close against the ear,
A dim, far whisper rises clamorously,
The thunderous beat and passion of the sea,
The slow surge of the tides that drown the mere.
Others with subtle hands may pluck the strings,
Making even Love in music audible,
And earth one glory. I am but a shell
That moves, not of itself, and moving sings;
Leaving a fragrance, faint as wine new-shed,
A tremulous murmur from great days long dead.
#9 “The Crystal Gazer” by Sara Teasdale
I shall gather myself into my self again,
I shall take my scattered selves and make them one.
I shall fuse them into a polished crystal ball
Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.
I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent.
Watching the future come and the present go
And the little shifting pictures of people rushing
In tiny self-importance to and fro.
#10 “The Bronze Legacy” by Effie Lee Newsome
’Tis a noble gift to be brown, all brown,
Like the strongest things that make up this earth,
Like the mountains grave and grand,
Even like the very land,
Even like the trunks of trees—
Even oaks, to be like these!
God builds His strength in bronze.
To be brown like thrush and lark!
Like the subtle wren so dark!
Nay, the king of beasts wears brown;
Eagles are of this same hue.
I thank God, then, I am brown.
Brown has mighty things to do.