Original Poems Rooted in Thought, Written in Stillness.
These are not poems written to fill space. They are original in the truest sense, drawn from silence, sharpened by reflection, and left to ferment before finding a page.
Welcome to a collection of original poems shaped by solitude and made whole by language. Each piece is an echo of a moment: a gesture toward meaning, a resistance to noise.
Whether you come here often or have stumbled in uninvited—please stay. There’s something in this quiet for you too.
Cradle of Caution
A reflective poem about choice, motherhood, and quiet acceptance. For those who’ve questioned their path and found clarity in stepping back from expectation.
I never wished to cradle or to hold,
The weight of futures woven, tales untold.
Not in my hands the seeds of life to sow,
For years have whispered what I fear to know.
Wings Beneath the Quiet
A sad and reflective poem about grief, silence, and emotional restraint. For anyone who’s held too much for too long and found release in the quiet act of writing.
My sleep is thin, my thoughts are deep,
This restless mind won’t let things go.
The words I never dared to weep,
Still echo soft, and haunt me so.
Tired of Reaching
A heartfelt poem about one-sided love, emotional distance, and the quiet grief of reaching for someone who no longer reaches back. For anyone who's held on too long.
How do I let go of someone I love?
He used to play “Barbie Barbie” for me.
Now I get silence, short answers, a shrug.
Where Absence Sleeps
A tender love poem about missing someone during a brief parting. For anyone who’s felt time slow down when the person they love isn’t just across the room.
Being alone and feeling lonely too,
There’s nothing worse, they say, than that cold pair
My heart is not yet used to missing you.
All That’s Left is She
A haunting poem about trauma, grief, reflection, and identity. For those who’ve seen themselves in the face of loss and felt the weight of what remains behind.
No one warned me I’d look like her—
a mirror etched with memory and ache.
She stares back,
beautifully dressed (as always)
but hollow in the eyes
Baz wouldn’t let me face.
Numb and Nurtured
A reflective poem questioning comfort, purpose, and what it means to live meaningfully. For readers drawn to depth, doubt, and the weight of unasked questions.
I’ve yearned for more these past few days,
For deeper truth in modern ways.
If wealth and health and all were mine,
Would happiness not fall in line?
Poem About Grief and Death
A raw, reflective poem about grief, alcohol, and the slow path to healing. Written in the wake of loss, it explores how we numb, cope, and eventually surface—changed, still hurting, but held by something steady.
Back when my mom gave up the fight,
My world collapsed without a sound.
The days grew darker than the night,
And grief was all that wrapped around.
Blind Belief
A bold, questioning poem about modern conviction, performative wellness, and the noise of borrowed truths. It challenges the surface-level certainty of our age and questions what happens when no one stops to look within.
We live in a strange and curious age,
Where billionaires take centre stage.
Where friends and kin all speak with flair,
Of food and health as if they care.
Patterns
The more I write,
the more I see patterns
not symmetrical,
not pleasing,
just the quiet stitching
of things I’ve avoided.
The Weight We Didn’t Share
A powerful poem about family, grief, and abandonment. It captures the quiet devastation of staying behind—bearing the load of loss, debt, and duty—while someone else walks away. Heavy, honest, and unforgettable.
When Dad stayed long in hospital care,
He lost his job; the bills grew tall.
Mum bore the load—it wasn’t fair,
Her wages barely stretched at all.
Nice White Lady
I sip my coffee in pink cotton ease,
Mourning a life that comes with no fees.
Journaling woes in pastel ink,
While the world outside begins to sink.
Women bleed where bombs don’t pause,
An Encyclopaedia of my Own Life
It’s been a stretch of strange days,
where nothing fits but the word weird.
I write it down like a nervous tick,
hoping ink can make it clear.
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Why Original Poems Matter
Poetry is not performance.
It is precision.
Intimacy. Study.
With algorithmic verse overflowing in the digital sphere, original poems act as counterweights.
They are not regurgitated stances, nor are they mood board captions that are stretched too thin, They hold intention, form, lineation & subtext.
Through continuous study and research, I explore the traditional forms of poetry (odes, elegies, free verse) with a deliberate deviation, each poem beginning in structure but grows toward rupture.
About the Poet
My name is Nadia Polydorou. I’m the creator and writer of all you see on this page―a personal dedication to my everyday life through poems.
I’m based in Cyprus, but most likely, you’ll find me behind the screens and notebooks of my scribbles - professionally, personally or otherwise.
Want More Like This?
These original poems begin as part of a daily writing practise. Just 30 minutes of journaling each morning, before the world interrupts.
If you’d like to read more of the work as it unfolds, and occasionally receive a quiet prompt or reflection, you’re welcome to join The Quiet Circle, a newsletter sent only when something feels worth sharing.
Join The Quiet Below Circle over at SubStack.
A space where poetry, personal essays, and reflective writing explore the delicate intersections of loss, healing and the quiet strength of human resilience.
