17 Beautiful Poems About Self-Love to Boost Your Confidence

Self-love, the profound appreciation, and acceptance of oneself, is a topic that has inspired countless poets throughout history. Through exploring these famous poems about self-love and positive affirmations, remind yourself that you deserve love, compassion, and acceptance from within. Moreover, these beautifully crafted self-love poems, from renowned poets, explore the importance of self-care, self-acceptance, and self-discovery. 

Remember when Selena Gomes said: "You've got every right...to a beautiful life!" So, find the motivation you need to love yourself unconditionally with our selection of poignant and uplifting poetry about self-love — today!

Handpicked Self-love Poems

1. Self - James Oppenheim

Once I freed myself of my duties to tasks and people and went down to the cleansing sea.

The air was like wine to my spirit,

The sky bathed my eyes with infinity,

The sun followed me, casting golden snares on the tide,

And the ocean—masses of molten surfaces, faintly gray-blue—sang to my heart.

Then I found myself, all here in the body and brain, and all there on the shore:

Content to be myself: free, and strong, and enlarged:

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Then I knew the depths of myself were the depths of space.

And all living beings were of those depths (my brothers and sisters)

And that by going inward and away from duties, cities, street-cars, and greetings,

I was dipping behind all surfaces, piercing cities and people,

And entering in and possessing them, more than a brother,

The surge of all life in them and in me.

So I swore I would be myself (there by the ocean)

And I swore I would cease to neglect myself but would take myself as my mate,

Solemn marriage and deep: midnights of thought to be:

Long mornings of sacred communion and twilights of talk,

Myself and I, long parted, clasping and married till death.

 

2.  Rhapsody - Florence Earle Coates

As the mother bird to the waiting nest,

As the regnant moon to the sea,

As joy to the heart that hath first been blest—

So is my love to me.

Sweet as the song of the lark that soars

From the net of the fowler free,

Sweet as the morning that song adores—

So is my love to me!

As the rose that blossoms in matchless grace

Where the canker may not be,

As the well that springs in a desert place—

So is my love to me.

 

3. The Poet And His Song - Paul Laurence Dunbar

A song is but a little thing,

And yet what joy it is to sing!

In hours of toil, it gives me zest,

And when at eve I long for rest;

When cows come home along the bars,

And in the fold, I hear the bell,

As Night, the shepherd herds his stars,

I sing my song, and all is well.

There are no ears to hear my lays,

No lips to lift a word of praise;

But still, with faith unfaltering,

I live and laugh and love and sing.

What matters yon unheeding throng?

They cannot feel my spirit’s spell,

Since life is sweet and love is long,

I sing my song, and all is well.

My days are never days of ease;

I till my ground and prune my trees.

When ripened gold is all the plain,

I put my sickle to the grain.

I labor hard, and toil and sweat,

While others dream within the Dell;

But even while my brow is wet,

I sing my song, and all is well.

Sometimes the sun, unkindly hot,

My garden makes a desert spot;

Sometimes a blight upon the tree

Takes all my fruit away from me;

And then, with throes of bitter pain

Rebellious passions rise and swell;

But — life is more than fruit or grain,

And so I sing, and all is well.
 

Inspiring Poems About Self-love

4. Life - Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I feel the great immensity of life.

All little aims slip from me, and I reach

My yearning soul toward the Infinite.

As when a mighty forest, whose green leaves

Have shut it in, and made it seem a bower

For lovers’ secrets, or for children’s sports,

Casts all its clustering foliage to the winds,

And lets the eye behold it, limitless,

And full of winding mysteries of ways:

So now with life that reaches out before,

And borders on the unexplained Beyond.

I see the stars above me, world on world:

I hear the awful language of all Space;

I feel the distant surging of great seas,

That hide the secrets of the Universe

In their eternal bosoms; and I know

That I am but an atom of the Whole.

 

5. On Beauty - Kahlil Gibran

And a poet said, speak to us of Beauty.

And he answered:

Where shall you seek beauty, and how

shall you find her unless she herself be your

way and your guide?

And how shall you speak of her except

she be the weaver of your speech?

The aggrieved and the injured say,

“Beauty is kind and gentle.

Like a young mother half-shy of her

own glory she walks among us.”

And the passionate say, “Nay, beauty is

a thing of might and dread.

Like the tempest, she shakes the earth

beneath us and the sky above us.”

The tired and the weary say, “Beauty is

of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.

Her voice yields to our silences like a faint

light that quivers in fear of the shadow.”

But the restless say, “We have heard her

shouting among the mountains,

And with her cries came the sound of

hoofs, and the beating of wings and

the roaring of lions.”

At night the watchmen of the city say,

“Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.”

And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say,

“We have seen her leaning over

the Earth from the windows of the sunset.”

In winter say the snow-bound, “She shall

come with the spring leaping upon the hills.”

And in the summer heat, the reapers say,

“We have seen her dancing with the autumn

leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her

hair.”

All these things have you said of beauty,

Yet in truth, you spoke not of her but of

needs unsatisfied,

And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.

It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty

hand stretched forth,

But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.

It is not the image you would see nor the

song you would hear,

But rather an image you see through you

close your eyes and a song you hear though

you shut your ears.

It is not the sap within the furrowed bark,

nor a wing attached to a claw,

But rather a garden forever in bloom and

a flock of angels forever in flight.

People of Orphalese, beauty is life when

life unveils her holy face.

But you are life and you are the veil.

Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.

But you are eternity and you are the mirror.

 

6.  Comrades - Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I and my soul are alone to-day,

All in the shining weather;

We were sick of the world, and we put it away,

So we could rejoice together.

Our host, the Sun, in the blue, blue sky,

Is mixing a rare, sweet wine,

In the burnished gold of his cup on high,

For me, and this soul of mine.

We find it a safe and royal drink,

And a cure for every pain;

It helps us to love, and helps us to think,

And strengthens body and brain.

And sitting here, with my soul alone,

Where the yellow sun-rays fall,

Of all the friends I have ever known

I find it the best of all.

We rarely meet when the world is near,

For the world hath a pleasing art

And brings me so much that is bright and dear

That my soul it keepeth apart.

But when I grow weary of mirth and glee,

Of glitter, and glow, and splendor,

Like a tried old friend it comes to me,

With a smile that is sad and tender.

 

7. See It Through - Edgar Guest

When you’re up against a trouble,

Meet it squarely, face to face;

Lift your chin and set your shoulders,

Plant your feet and take a brace.

When it’s vain to try to dodge it,

Do the best that you can do;

You may fail, but you may conquer,

See it through!

Black may be the clouds about you

And your future may seem grim,

But don’t let your nerve desert you;

Keep yourself in fighting trim.

If the worst is bound to happen,

Spite of all that you can do,

Running from it will not save you,

See it through!

Even hope may seem but futile,

When with troubles you’re beset,

But remember you are facing

Just what other men have met.

You may fail, but fall still fighting;

Don’t give up, whate’er you do;

Eyes front, head high to the finish.

See it through!

 

8. If - Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with triumph and disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on”;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch;

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run—

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And — which is more — you’ll be a Man, my son!

 

Heartwarming Poetry About Loving Yourself

9. All for Me - Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The world grows green on a thousand hills—

By a thousand willows the bees are humming,

And a million birds by a million rills,

Sing of the golden season coming.

But, gazing out on the sun-kist lea,

And hearing a thrush and a blue-bird singing,

I feel that the Summer is all for me,

And all for me are the joys it is bringing.

All for me the bumble-bee

Drones his song in the perfect weather;

And, just on purpose to sing to me,

Thrush and blue-bird came North together.

Just for me, in red and white,

Bloom and blossom the fields of clover;

And all for me and my delight

The wild Wind follows and plays the lover.

The mighty sun, with a scorching kiss

(I have read, and heard, and do not doubt it),

Has burned up a thousand worlds like this,

And never stopped to think about it.

And yet I believe he hurries up

Just on purpose to kiss my flowers—

To drink the dew from the lily cup,

And help it to grow through golden hours.

I know I am only a speck of dust,

An individual mite of masses,

Clinging upon the outer crust

Of a little ball of cooling gases.

And yet, and yet, say what you will,

And laugh, if you please, at my lack of reason,

For me wholly, and for me still,

Blooms and blossoms the Summer season.

Nobody else has ever heard

The story the wind to me discloses;

And none but I and the humming-bird

Can read the hearts of the crimson roses.

Ah, my Summer—my love—my own!

The world grows glad in your smiling weather;

Yet all for me, and me alone,

You and your Court came north together.

 

10. Ballad by the Fire - Edwin Arlington Robinson

Slowly I smoke and hug my knee,

The while a witless masquerade

Of things that only children, see

Floats in a mist of light and shade:

They pass, a flimsy cavalcade,

And with a weak, remindful glow,

The falling embers break and fade,

As one by one, the phantoms go.

Then, with a melancholy glee

To think where once my fancy strayed,

I muse on what the years may be

Whose coming tales are all unsaid,

Till tongs and shovel, snugly laid

Within their shadowed niches, grow

By grim degrees to pick and spade,

As one by one, the phantoms go.

But then, what though the mystic Three

Around me ply their merry trade? —

And Charon soon may carry me

Across the gloomy Stygian glade? —

Be up, my soul! nor be afraid

Of what some unborn year may show;

But mind your human debts are paid,

As one by one, the phantoms go.

Life is a game that must be played:

This truth at least, good friend, we know;

So live and laugh, nor be dismayed

As one by one, the phantoms go.

And we walk together as two friends may,

And laugh, and drink God’s wine.

Oh, a royal comrade any day

I find this soul of mine.

 

11. The Things That Count - Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Now, dear, it isn’t the bold things,

Great deeds of valor and might,

That count the most in the summing up of life at the end of the day.

But it is the doing of old things,

Small acts that are just and right;

And doing them over and over again, no matter what others say;

In smiling at fate, when you want to cry, and in keeping at work when you want to play—

Dear, those are the things that count.

And, dear, it isn’t the new ways

Where the wonder-seekers crowd

That lead us into the land of content or help us to find our own.

But it is keeping to true ways,

Though the music is not so loud,

And there may be many a shadowed spot where we journey along alone;

In flinging a prayer at the face of fear, and in changing into

a song a groan—

Dear, these are the things that count.

My dear, it isn’t the loud part

Of creeds that are pleasing to God,

Not the chant of a prayer, or the hum of a hymn, or a jubilant shout or song.

But it is the beautiful proud part

Of walking with feet faith-shod;

And in loving, loving, loving through all, no matter how things go wrong;

In trusting ever, though dark the day, and in keeping your hope when the way seems long—

Dear, these are the things that count.
 

Short Poems on Loving Yourself

12. O Me! O Life! - Walt Whitman

O Me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,

Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,

Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)

Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,

Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,

Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest of me intertwined,

The question, O me! so sad, recurring — What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here—that life exists and identity,

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

 

13. I’m Nobody! Who are you? - Emily Dickinson

I’m Nobody! Who are you?

Are you – Nobody – too?

Then there’s a pair of us!

Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!

How public – like a Frog –

To tell one’s name – the livelong June –

To an admiring Bog!

 

14. Serenity - Charles Bertram Johnson

The storms that break and sweep about my feet,

The winds that blow and tear, the rains that fall,

Shall not the courage of my soul appall;

I shall be conqueror, tho’ sore defeat

O’erwhelm the outbound keels of all my fleet

Of dreams; tho’ not one tattered sail, but all

Go down mid-sea; with heart serene, I’ll greet

The worst or best, the stronger for the squall.

My soul is set amid the storms of life —

The hurricanes of passion crash and break

And tides of heathen hate sweep o’er our land;

But calm amid the flying ruins of strife,

Or in the leaping flames around the stake

With pierced hands — my faith serene — I stand!

 

15. I Know My Soul - Claude McKay

I plucked my soul out of its secret place,

And held it to the mirror of my eye,

To see it like a star against the sky,

A twitching body quivering in space,

A spark of passion shining on my face.

And I explored it to determine why

This awful key to my infinity

Conspires to rob me of sweet joy and grace.

And if the sign may not be fully read,

If I can comprehend but not control,

I need not gloom my days with futile dread,

Because I see a part and not the whole.

Contemplating the strange, I’m comforted

By this narcotic thought: I know my soul.
 

Rupi Kaur’s Poems About Self-love

16. Awake

Give me laugh lines and wrinkles

I want proof of the jokes we shared

Engrave the lines into my face like

The roots of a tree that grow deeper

With each passing year

I want sunspots as souvenirs

For the beaches, we laid on

I want to look like I was

Never afraid to let the world

Take me by the hand

And show me what it’s made of be

I want to leave this place knowing

I did something with my body

Other than trying to

Make it look perfect.

 

17. Home

It was when I stopped searching for home within others

And lifted the foundations of home within myself

I found there were no roots more intimate

Than those between a mind and body

That have decided to be whole!

Conclusion

In a world where self-doubt and insecurities often prevail, some renowned poets have crafted verses that celebrate your beauty, resilience, and worthiness. These 17 handpicked poems about self-love serve as gentle reminders to embrace your unique qualities, nurture your spirits, and recognize your inherent value. Moreover, such self-love poems explore various dimensions of self-love, encouraging you to embark on a journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance. They also emphasize the importance of embracing your flaws, scars, and imperfections, as they contribute to the richness and depth of our identities.

So, read these poems about loving yourself to indulge in moments of solitude, reflection, and self-refinement and shape your own destinies.

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