PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Little Things


Little things are my happiness and joy. Like the way a pencil dances across a blank piece of parchment, the way a large group of people can harmonize with each other. Even something as little as earning the A-B honor roll. These things may seem trivial and useless to most but those very things are the reason I'm still here. They're the reason I dropped my cutting habits and changed for the better. These things are the reason I have scars instead of fresh, open wounds. Those same useless and trivial things are my world, my hope, and are the only things keeping me alive.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Submitted to a slam

“Slam Against Bullying”

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

dweebsarekings

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (1)

dweebsarekings
<p>#twistandshoutscholarship</p>

Comments are closed for this poem.