8 Poems For When You Feel Lost In This Big World, And Need A Reminder Of Your Strength

Yana Toyber
Yana Toyber


You are still learning
that beauty blooms
in the darkest of places,
like the flower whose roots
grab hold of the soil
deep underneath the ground,
yes, you will rise
like the stem,
and open your petals to the sky.


I am but one in this atmosphere.
One person. One smile.
One body on these legs.
One heart beating furiously in my chest.

I am but one in this universe.
One collection of cells.
One set of lungs.
One tiny mind spinning
with thoughts, with words.

I am but one in this life.
But even one stone can make a ripple.
One raindrop create a storm.
One step can change a course.

And though I am but one,
I am strong.


To be lost is nothing to fear,
you are just spinning, gliding, flying
into free fall. Waiting
for the moment when your wings
detach from your sides, catch
the wind underneath their feathers
like sails. Then you learn to flow
with the change of the breeze,
learn to find your rhythm
in the wake of change
with each flap, each shift,
each breath.

To be lost is nothing to fear,
for everything that is lost
is on the path to being found.

And you, my darling, have wings.


You are not the only one who feels this way,
who walks with tender steps, too afraid to be led
down a path that will take you farther from home.

But home is not one place, never has been.

Home is everywhere your feet have wandered,
every place where you have laughed or drank or slept
or kissed. Home is in the faces of the ones you love.
Home is the hearts beating in their chests, calling for you
to return again. Home is wherever you claim it as your own.

And so you are never lost, just wandering. Finding, rediscovering,
claiming all the places you now belong. And always will.


She is learning
to pull faith from the wind,
breathe it in
and set her worries free.


My eyes are red.
My ribs are cracked.
My lips are bruised.
My soul is sleepy.
My hands are weak.
My legs are numb.
My lungs ache
with each lonely breath.

My poor heart is tired.
Yet it keeps on beating.

And so I will follow its rhythm,
let it guide me home.


Life won’t always be like this, a mess
of colors of choices of decisions
you’re too afraid to make. Your body
won’t always feel like this, a collection
of fears of thoughts of memories
mixing together in the folds of your mind.

You are a person, a soul, a creation
made of muscles and matter that are stronger
than you could ever imagine.

Rest your worried head on my shoulder.
Close your eyes and breathe deeply, in out.
Remember everything is temporary—
and you won’t always feel like this.


She has started
to smile when her path is spinning
to laugh when life grabs at her ankles
pulling like dead weight.

She has started
to trust in the ways of the world
to release her hold on what she cannot control
heartache, hurt, change.

She has started
to realize that her body is beautiful,
her mind strong, her feet on steady ground.

She has found
the only thing holding her back
is the doubt in her own mind. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Marisa is a writer, poet, & editor. She is the author of Somewhere On A Highway, a poetry collection on self-discovery, growth, love, loss and the challenges of becoming.

Keep up with Marisa on Instagram, Twitter, Amazon and marisadonnelly.com

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