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

From When We Were Young


To the back of my teeth I itch
Down from my cold core I wretch
From when I was young, to the tip of my tongue
The thoughts inside long to etch

Skin crawls like legs that wander
Beneath I'll bubble and burn
Right from the soul, I'll do what I'm told
And I'll be told to wait my turn

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

WildeAndWasted

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 (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.