Poems of Empowerment

We all need words of empowerment, encouragement, and support when life feels tough. The poems below, written by Chuck Copenspire and an anonymous online creator. @Mc.Baldiee, are reprinted with permission to help those struggling to find themselves. Stay strong, stay alive, and stay true to what makes you special.

“Inner Child”

Written by Chuck Copenspire, reprinted from a journal entry from 2016 with permission from his book, A Pocket Full of Seeds, available at Bookshop.

Chuck is my inner child.

Born anew

from the cocoon

of hate and self-loathing

Chuck is strong and new

Chuck knows all kinds of things

now

that s/he didn’t know then

But now s/he knows and s/he is powerful

S/he could run a small town

Fuck, if Donald Trump can run for office, so can I.

It’s not narcissistic to OWN THE FACT

that you are alive and strong.

Smart and beautiful

And it’s your job to do your part to restore the earth and

die trying. Because that’s how s/he would want it.

I’m feeling a lot of complicated things.

I don’t feel like I should be spending my days in the

basement, so I will avoid making a habit of such.

I really don’t know.

I’m tired and depressed and lonely and in debt.

I should apply at strip clubs. Buck. Cam.

I like doing sex work.

It makes me feel alive.

It makes me feel in control and worthy.

The idea of the 9-5 feels defeating

and I want to remain open for Art Dept work locally.

I think I incurred a lot of judgement

at the last house

and doubted my every action.

How can I structure my day to be more energizing?

Fresh fruit for breakfast

Tea

Journaling

Creating gratitude and intention

Going for a walk

Working outside

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“Look How Far You’ve Grown”

Written by @Mc.Baldiee, an anonymous writer and creator, who also is on TikTok and Instagram.

I know how heavy it gets, watching everyone else wear the life you thought you’d grow into. They smile, win, and glow, and you fold your joy into smaller and smaller corners until it disappears between the creases of your ribs.

I have seen it too many times. A heart like yours, cracked not from the cruelty, but from believing you’re somehow less. Comparison is not an insight; it is a wound that mimics wisdom. It tricks you into thinking their path is proof you’ve gone astray, and it makes a gallery of other people’s milestones, calling it your funeral.

You ache because you think you’re falling behind. But behind what? Who drew this invisible finish line you’re bleeding to cross? Who told you that you were late to your own becoming?

There are stars that will never be seen by a telescope; there are flowers that bloom where no foot has walked. There are souls like yours meant to unfold in silence, meant to grow wild, strange, and sacred. You keep trying to resize yourself to fit into someone else’s triumph, but you are not a costume.

You are not a second-place version of anyone; you are not their shadow. You are the storm they will one day look toward and call miracle.

So, breathe and grieve what you thought you had to become. Then, come home to the slow holy fire of your own strange path. You were never lost; just distracted by reflections that were never your own. You are not late; you are not lacking. You are an unfolding cosmos that no clock can contain, too vast to rush and too sacred to compare.

And one day without even trying, you will become the very light you once chased.