Featured Poetry - January, 2026
BROKEN MAN
By Brad Copp
Life brings him to his knees
This world will push him down
Carrying burdens no one sees
Trying to swim to only drown
Too proud to ever complain
About his back or calloused hands
He sits alone in the pain
Holding pieces of a broken man
His thoughts are a living hell
Feeling he is not enough
Nothing more than a hollow shell
He hides it by being tough
Thinking about ending it all
For he can no longer stand
Wishing he had someone to call
Holding pieces of a broken man
Each morning he opens his eyes
Struggling to get out of bed
Tries to smile but only cries
Unable to get out of his head
His heart desires love and peace
Hoping someone would understand
That the voices never cease
Holding pieces of a broken man.
ABOUT THE POEM: "This poem is a vulnerable one for me. There is not enough out there that represents men's mental health. I know a lot of men can relate to this."
BORDERLINE
By Harriet Coppard
Sit on that fence
We're borderline
Caught emotions
Stuck in time
We're hot and cold
We burn and freeze
Searching for
a real release
Anger flares
In fiery eyes
They'll don't see under
Our disguise
Caught between
The good and bad
No grey exists
Just happy, sad
Black and white
It's a or b
You cannot cure
What you can't see
Yet we are stronger
Than you know
We walk the places
You could not go
We know so much
We feel intense
That borderline
That same old fence
THE PRICELESS TREASURE WITHIN A MAN
By Briyanna Dorminvil
Vulnerability, my most prized possession.
People often misunderstand its true essence
by viewing it through the lens of negativity.
Vulnerability is helpful yet harmful.
Once I bring a portion of it to the light,
I can no longer hide it in the darkness.
When I consider being vulnerable, two common fears pull me into hesitation:
the possibility of people using it as ammunition,
and the risk of people sharing my personal information.
Unintended exposure can result in
public ridicule, verbal abuse, and additional internal harm.
Sudden bursts of ammunition cause further internal damage,
pushing me deeper into my mental prison.
Can my mind bear the damage?
Can my heart endure the betrayal and pain from those I trust, reopening my unhealed wounds? People wonder why I hesitate to be vulnerable.
Will I allow my bad experiences to ruin my perception of my most prized possession?
The door to the room of my internal struggles has been
closed.
After careful consideration,
I need to
revisit this room
with a trustworthy person
at some point.
Who can I trust?
When will I be free to share my most prized possession without
being questioned, hurt, or criticized?
I could no longer withstand the weight of trauma, the grip of agony, or the bleeding, hidden wounds. Like a breath of fresh air, an unexpected presence entered the room—a therapist.
Vulnerability, my most prized possession.
A small dosage to the right person can assist me
in receiving the three crucial things I have been seeking:
compassion, emotional support, and mental stability.
Based on the results, I can share another dosage to
address internal issues, overcome hidden challenges, and
heal.
As we progress in addressing my internal issues,
I began to examine vulnerability through a lens of positivity.
There is a hidden key within my exposure to others:
relatability.
Vulnerability is a powerful reminder that
we are not alone in our struggles;
it unites us in our shared humanity
and reveals our capacity to overcome even the toughest challenges.
When we find common ground with others,
we can start a new chapter in our lives.
One narrative can change various lives
through an unforgettable impact of inspiration and encouragement.
Vulnerability, my most prized possession.
Priceless but fragile.
Helpful yet harmful.
Weak yet strong.
ABOUT THE POEM: This poem underscores the hidden struggles and the importance of a man's vulnerability. It highlights how men must break free from their mental prison, confront hidden issues by seeking help, and heal. I wrote this poem to raise awareness about the importance, benefits, and disadvantages (when exposed to the wrong people) of vulnerability. Also, to inform people about some of the common mistakes we make when a man is vulnerable, which lead him to being closed off. Lastly, I wrote this to dispel the common myth that vulnerability is unhelpful or simply weakness.
ABOUT BRIYANNA: Briyanna is an Eric-Hoffer Award-nominated author who has made a notable impact on the writing industry through her emphasis on diversity, authenticity, and transparency. She strives to inspire and educate others through scriptures and wisdom. In her free time, she enjoys mentoring, taking long walks, and reading.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22915120.Briyanna_Dorminvil
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/briyanna-dorminvil-9a9658285/
OF KINGS AND VAGABONDS
By Johnnie Dalton
In the silence of a dream I dwell.
Thoughts of vagabonds and Kings.
I could hear.
Each has there own fear.
The vagabond nothing to loose except his peace and solitude.
The King by contrast his kingdom to loose.
For that which we have vagabond or king.
Is ours to loose.
Who am I but a vagabond?
Or a man who would be king?
For in dreams we can be kings and vagabonds.
From slumber deep awake.
Those thoughts I heard.
In a moment a lost.
Am I a king or vagabond?
Till morpheus again in my slumber deep his wicked games will play.
Another night a better day?
TIDAL WAVE
By Cynthis Foss
No one really talks about the waves of emotions that arise while trying to heal from trauma when your brain is constantly trying to sabotage everything.
Everything starts to look bright: your future and self-confidence. You feel so proud of what you have overcome and how hard you've worked to get where you are.
Then another wave starts to come, one you can't see coming with such force. It knocks you down from the foundation you've been building.
All of a sudden, you feel as if the sand is no
longer under your feet. You find yourself swimming back in all of the emotional pain, anxiety, anger, and self-sabotage you're so familiar with.
Fighting to stay afloat, trying to be patient with yourself, waiting for low tide, when the waves of emotions and the chaos start to recede.
Giving yourself kindness, grace, and self-compassion until the tide lowers....
Until you feel the warm sand under your feet again.
REARRANGING
By Hawawu Tsado
This feels so much like dying—only I’m alive,
Or maybe a rebirth? But that would be a lie.
A life that was once mine feels far away—
a hazy dream, an old fairytale, maybe an illusion.
Each day, time and memory drift farther,
like slipping in and out of consciousness,
like a mirage.
Growing up feels like a curse,
like being punished for a wrong,
like wearing a mask and playing dress-up,
like paying a price—
a cruel, unspeakable price.
It almost seems I prayed to a god
who answers only after dark.
As days pass, pieces of memory blacken.
Time turns hazy.
Tomorrow is a mystery.
Today leaves me clutching broken shards—
they scar my palms,
leave me bleeding,
until I feel time slipping again,
and dark returns,
till tomorrow—
or not.
Maybe this isn’t dying—
maybe it’s my body learning
how to carry more weight
than it was meant to hold at once.
Memory blurs when it’s overloaded.
Time stutters when the heart is tired.
Even light flickers before it steadies.
I am not disappearing—
I am rearranging.
Pain makes a mess of the room
before it learns where things belong.
I'll Stay.
Maybe not forever.
Just long enough
to see what tomorrow brings
when it finally arrives.
Maybe light waits at the end.
Maybe it doesn’t.
Either way,
I’m still here.
ABOUT THE POEM: "This piece reflects on personal experience, memory, and the emotional complexity of growing up while navigating loss, disorientation, and the challenge of carrying more than one’s heart is ready for. It explores the interplay of mental and emotional struggle with endurance, ultimately finding a quiet strength in survival."
ABOUT HAWAWU: Hawawu is a student writer based in Kogi, Nigeria. Her work explores themes of memory, identity, and resilience, and of elevating voices that speak to mental health and emotional experience.
UNTITLED
By Charity Louise
Manipulators
Thought Controllers
Thought Deceivers
And Thought Receivers
My thoughts are not yours
To steal
My memories are not yours
To erase
My existence is not yours
To terrorize
My beliefs are not yours
To control
I am free
To think and choose
Don’t come near me
I am not yours
WALK FORWARD
By Jasmeet Gabrie
Fishing Rod I won’t be wheeled back in
Walk forward even when you cannot see. Feel the fresh air hitting your face. Does it anchor you? Place your heel down feel grounded like the earth.
Walk forward - you don’t need to know the story. That’s life’s delight - surprise.
Walk forward - Let me hold your hand. What do I need to say? Can I take away the pain? Am I a fisherman reeling you in or
Am I the anchor?
Walk forward - It starts with you. It ends with you. Walk forward. Towards 2026. Welcome 2026!
The fast firework; all sparkle.
The firework that expands so much it gives you a hug.
Take what you do need in the new year and leave behind what you don’t. Say hurray, hurray! Walk forward not backward.
Fishing Rod coming. I won't be wheeled back in.
Anchored in the sword of word.
Walk forward.
COMPLEX
By Jose manoj Mathews T
The girl who I loved
walking before me
slowly chatting with her friends.
I wanted to overtake them.
When I overtook,
My complex attacked me
I thought, they were
laughing at me.
I was not walking.
I's in a trance,
going to nowhere.
My house far away.
When I reached home,
a stranger opened the door, and
asked 'who are you'?
I wanted to see my parents.
But that stranger, slammed
the door, Shouting to get lost!
ABOUT THE POEM: "I was mentally sick even from my boyhood. My schoolmates called me mad. I used to wept whenever I was alone. Now my neighbours consider me insane and avoid my presence."
ECHOES
By MOC
Fear,
Too scared to take a look,
Feelings bottled inside,
Might erupt at any moment.
Fear,
Too scared—memories locked up,
Past moments long suppressed,
Crashing in like waves.
Grief like floods,
Pain like storms,
Echoes of your betrayal.
Too scared to feel,
Too scared to forget, to move on,
Stuck—
Reliving past scenes.
ABOUT THE POEM: This poem reads a page from his life that sums his feelings and thoughts after meeting the one who broke his trust.
ABOUT MOC: Studying psychology. She is someone who's too scared to take a look at the world, so most times, she's holed up in her room. Poetry is her way of communicating, telling what's deep in her heart.
TRISHANKU SWARGAM
By Aishwariya Laxmi
I stand at the threshold of life
Looking in from the outside
A kind of Trishanku Swargam
Neither here, nor there
But somewhere
Waiting, patiently waiting
For the tide to turn
For the page to turn
For the season to change
From Winter to Spring
Coz it's in Spring that my heart flutters
And butterflies inhabit my stomach
Yes, the metamorphosis
Takes place in March
When my birthday is celebrated
Quietly at home
And I wait
For the inertia to disappear
And life to change
ABOUT AISHWARIYA: Aishwariya os an author, poet, essayist, and flash fiction writer based in Chennai, India. Her debut book ‘Birds of Paradise: Poems on Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness’ was released on Amazon USA in November 2024. Her work features in about 50 anthologies worldwide.
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