childhood

Learn more about other poetry terms

My mother always caressed my hands, and I was always warmer than her. It was hard for me to understand, but warm hands are what most people prefer.  
I used to read a lot more, That’s just a hardened fact. Now what I read is simply for school, Annotations, blue and black.   I remember loving books,
I was driving home the other day, Down the same old streets like always, I passed the school, the church, the cemetary,And I started to think of the old days. 
Childish things I use to say. Childish want of things to go my way. Childish sitting in school all day wishing I could do nothing. Childish waiting on people and expecting them to do something.
Period. Not the kind present at the end of a sentence, not the kind that boldly sends a message.   But the secret kind.
Five foot two- can't fill those shoes You never knew the pain they put me through Five foot three- can't find real me  You say I'm my own, but never felt free Five foot four- s'you I adore
Crack, boom, pop The news ricochets around the room like a bullet It explodes in our ears Crack, boom, pop Right near the playground The report says
my grandparents' house has held many people, my opa built this house from the ground up and that’s how they built this family too.  
I remember when I could singunafraid of how I sound. I remember when I could flyunafraid of the hard ground. 
How can I hate those who raised me, When I am their baby? And I know that they hurt me, But I have been learning, That they are people too, There's a bunch of fucking shit that they went through.
When you claim to not be a child, it's like Saying you can breath underwater or see through walls: Only a child thinks that. But to say an adult cannot be a child
Friends are important. They may be the only reason why I’m still here today; they've brought meaning back into life.
New Year's Eve, two thousand twelve. A night full of hope, joy, wonder, but I was all alone. My father, asleep, too angry to stay awake. My mother, drunk, too careless to remember her children.
we were just kids, merely saying i love you for show “so sweet youʼre giving me a cavity“ i still remember telling you too bad we just laugh now
The day is bright. The night is dark.  Time seems to stop in the arms of my mother. Now I only dream about my lover. I was once a small seed. Now I'm a flower growing with greed.
I can recall-perfectly, A Time, Made of Gold   Not the gold, That you both laced around me, binding my neck and wrists.  
Feather light touches, blink and they’re gone. I used to watch flowers in the early Spring bloom, unfurling the curl of their petals in a yawn
(modeled after ‘My Boy Jack’)  “HAVE you spotted my childhood? 
    I grew up hearing All that I’ve missed- ‘Cause I still hadn't hadMy very first kiss. So I came up with a plan-
lately, things have been a little too much for me. i havent been the happiest and i had no explanation on why,
I know this all too well I have two parents Which means twice the yelling I get it
Surrounded by books But no inspiration, Focused eyes But no concentration.   Complete silence there But so loud in my head, Bitting my nails and pulling my hair, my creativity is dead.
As children we are told Right and wrong are black and white And the hard line between them is time and place That green means good and red means Stop  
Don’t listen to what they say. Truly romantic things do happen. Someone will tell you things so sweet- and therefore so unbelievable to you- that you’ll cry
They're sisters for each other, but still bicker Family that once was   Then the summer of 2012 comes around An eleven-year-old girl
I used to dream in the world in my head, let my imagination take flight as the buildings went by.   I could dream up wild elephants from Africa, or starships from space 
It wasn't until one day, A Thursday to be exact, That I opened my eyes slowly To the shimmering beams of light. Soaked deep beneath my skin, I welcomed the light. The glow emitted from within me
Until I realized I was grown   Bouncing down the convenience store aisle Pulling the sleeves of your shirt down over your shoulders in an effort to feel older and more grown up.  
Summers used to be magical. Late nights out, playing in front yards and side streets,
I realized I was done being a kid when I couldn't do the monkey bars anymore.  The second I sunk down into my shoulders, gripping on the bars above me, my feet hit the ground.  Thud. Oh boy. This is new. 
Cheating Childhood Created by: Eric M. Jimenez   Life was great! Here comes my father never late! I lived and I laughed!
I was sitting in my private school, around age 8 The religion teacher said everyone sit in a circle Don’t speak Close your eyes
A simple ritual, done without a thought. Fix the dinner, tuck her in, make sure the doors are locked. Say goodnight and go to bed, then a thought goes through my head.
I became grown-up Much quicker than many I was only 13  When they found a tumor in my belly   Technically it was in my ovary 
I'm moving forward in life. I need to take the advice. There's a voice in the back of my head, checking it twice. Make the right decisions, so that I'll avoid collision.
Childhood. A concept where everyone hopes, Wishes, and dreams Will last a lifetime.   There is much stigma on both sides,
They kept asking for it Over and over My stupid phone Which is mine, by the way, And I was so nearly fatally horrifically close to snapping In half That I decided we should play a game.
The hand I first grabbed within the firstfew moments of my life,The hand I first held into within my firstfew stepsthe hand I held when crossing the street,the hand I held when I was afraid,
Waking up on Saturday mornings for the sole purpose of hearing Elmo squeak about something new on Sesame Street, has long been overruled by new responsibilities.
There is something I know now that I didn't know then...    Back when recess existed and kids ran  To play games of tag or house or kick-ball   Back when I thought there was only right or wrong
Childhood memories, some Happy and sad. Of Illness and wellness and Living with dad. Was Distanced from others and Hating it all—now On with the day. I’m Destroying the wall.  
I am from forgotten songs, From distorted guitars and double bass. I am from late night TV (Loud, blaring children shouldn’t be watching).
It has been a long time Since the sun smiled, Honored in the corners of my pictures by the yellowest crayon. It has been a long time
i remember when we had no smartphones. life was so much simpler. i remember being excited to play ball. i remember being excited to skate. i remember being excited to dance. i remember being excited to live.
Let me tell you of the week I grew up. No, not physically but mentally and emotionally. The physical age does not matter; what matters is that the week before I loved candy.
Protection It's what I grew up knowing I had What would happen when all that went bad Took two seconds Was that not enough? Growing up in Southcentral was truly rough  
revised from Daddy's Little Girl   I remember the little girl she used to be in her bright tutus and soft-footed slippers.
Being a child is a special time One in which you look up to your guardians And think - I want to be like them - As strong as my father And as kind as my mother
Once, you claimed a kind of love, unbeknownst to the receiverRememory*A mother’s desperate love; one in which she sacrifices allRememoryDo you truly love your children, or only what they are able to accomplish?
i. you said they came with rocks so i built a fortress for emotion brick by brick from bitter lies about how you thought it was, to love a woman.  
She looked at me while she giggled a light-hearted laugh It rang out like a wind chime till cut in half She looked to the side and made a face that shook me
His driveway sloped into the ground, deep enough for two third graders to just barely on tippi toes and noses pointed high to peek over the edge Like spies Like hunters Like prey
Lying, leaning, laying on. Under grass, on you, and to you too, You lay still, as if the lungs in your chest would burst if you drew a single breath. Maybe they might. Black Feeble Lungs,
Cold wet toes hug the sandpaper edge
I'm only five feet tall.  I'm about to turn 18 years old.    When I was young, I threw a tantrum on the kitchen floor,  Begging and pleading with my mom, "I don't want to grow up!"
My head felt like an eternally spinning teacup ride at the fair.    ~awatr
I remember the screams Of my youngest sister as she tried to sleep. Whose screams Concealed hushed, conspiring whispers. I remember too the leaves that swallowed
      Flowers don’t grow in November And for some reason it snows It pours all September The bad weather simply won’t go  
I come to the realisation  that  I can’t remember those winters,  the winters of my childhood.  It was really good at all times, and it was really bad.  Now it’s bad all the time. 
I remember the little girl she used to be in her bright tutus and soft-footed slippers. She would stand on my feet as we waltzed, which I couldn't do as well as I pretended.
When I was little, I used to be afraid of the dark. I was afraid of all kinds of things: spiders, vampires, snakes, and
Years of lost time Quietly echo Sentiments of regret, Remorse, And a vague sort-of hatred.   I wanted to tell you,
Everything reminds me of you. I say things that only you would understand. Part of me is gone but it had to be lost to find a new.   I miss your smile. I miss your stupid jokes.
Some people remember memories in the form of words, sounds, and images I remember memories, the smells of the grass, the honeybees I remember the smell of the dressing room Your cologne, perfume, the living room
I didn’t know If I did I would have brought some glue To fix the place Where you slipped through time The tear in the air that separates
Before my house’s basement was finished, It was a barren concrete playground, For my imagination to mold. Silver lined walls got punctured and distorted,
She is the clay that molded me. A soul's travel that passed down from mother to daughter. What is bad and what is good, What depends and flows within the gray, Values embedded in DNA.
As a kiddie, school was cool, My teacher rolled on her stool. But this wasn't about school, It’s about my trips like a fool.
Faster. My breath feels like smoke on my cheeks. Faster. I hear the sharp sound of twigs snapping underfoot, birds chipping out staccato melodies. I’m surrounded by one-hundred shades of green, trees like massive wooden
Childhood friends on the playground; Playing in the sand finding gems; Getting ourselves dirty for no reason; Becoming our own superheroes.
squinting, smiling under the bold sunshine running over the prickly pine needles digging my feet into the fragrant earth under a canopy of straight, tall trees who are guarding their wild secrets
We were almost brother and sister— Sharing inside jokes that left others befuddled, Matched in both wits and passion for our craft… Now I barely recognize you.  
Within Grandma's holy sanctum resided an altar before which I was in awe, would stand tip toe in worship adoring the lines of her ornate hand held ivory mirror and silver hair brush; hands not folded in prayer
"The important thing in life is to let the years carry us along." Federico Garcia Lorca, Yerma"   This evening I press my ear to your chest, hear the ocean's waves and laughing gulls
I inhale the aroma of deep fried pastries with powdered sugar Brahman bulls, pigmy goats, horses, occasional whiff of weed ...   Young son's initiation:  cotton candy,
Summer mornings I'd watch as he of wing and tapered tail, royal and rust,
It's as if I'm looking through a keyhole, the two of them silhouetted against a future bright. One looms large, admired, fedora tilted over one eye. The other?  Innocence, unaware of flaws in his hero.
Heart teeming with love, liver soaking in booze; rough around the edges, tender to the core: the dichotomy of you.  
There grew a tree by my house of blue. It was an impenetrable fortress, That protected me from the harsh sun. And yet, Gave way to a gentle breeze.
The Older Boys   I had always felt younger than all the other boys. My pretty pink Strawberry Shortcake bicycle, and long dirty blonde hair.
Walking under the brightness of the Moon,i feel the unadulterated nature of the Wind.It blew me left, right and center,i held myself tight in order not to Scatterwith my gaze fixed to the Moonwith keen Interest
SAINT MARY OF THE SEA POSTS A LETTER: TO THE SIREN HUNTERS, BE WARNED        i saw            what    you   did when  you     made         sure    no   one was      looking
Twelve year olds these days reminds us of how cringe-worthy we used to be and that's probably why we give them so much shit. Ya'll wanna pretend you weren't starting fires and stealing cigarettes
A friend of mine asked me to write a poem about myself, and for the first time, I was left
Life as I knew it was not fair I was thrown from here to there. Never knowing where I might sleep  My poetry was all I had to keep.   I would write for days upon end
the first picture taken of me sits in an altar by my bedside, a reminder of everything I have been given from day one. a baby, curls of onyx in my eyes, nose-deep in a book.
It was passed along in whispers,  among the children of paradise that deep within the wetlands rested a treehouse few had entered   Determined we set out, to find this place of ledgend 
When I was little I wanted to work with wordsI wanted my voice to be heard Amidst the noise of all the others in the worldI wanted to construct skyscrapers built of verbs, Towering miles above the earthBut unlike babylon, my goal was never heaven 
A summer when I was twelve  and my dad's house was always too hot and the air outside was too dry. My sisters and I bought sodas with quarters and drank them at the park -without my parents knowing-.
Butterflies as abundant as grandma's kisses Heartaches that sting of of scraped knees Stomach somersaults reminiscent of playful childhood days
We all start off pure: a baby, knowing nothing about the world around us.   We are very sheltered at this time, thinking no one could do us harm. Some, sooner than others, realize this is not true.
I remember how the backyard used to be at home The playground we swang on and the slide we slipped down. The cones fell from the pines The black walnuts smelled of limes
What we once fully embraced on our young skin Is now what we retract from at first contact.   What we once tipped our heads to the heavens above for We now bow our heads down as if in a prayer.  
His tongue tastes of wine I feel childhood memories on his spine. His eyes shimmer like the sea I know why he has that scar on his knee. His lips taste like cherries I watch him devour some Ben & Jerry's.
When I was young I could not hear I would stand there and wail screech like a banshee Ahhhhhh,for food Ahhhhhh,for drink
When I ws alone, There was a silver screen.   With flashing faces, And wondrous places.   A smiling man and lady, And a criminal who acted very shady.   They fought their woes,
Momma used to say, Robins only come when the rain goes away.   I used to look out the dust ice carved windows, Holding close to me the warmth of my blankets and pillows.   The waiting seemed endless,
i miss the gentle air that was once wrapped around my waist. i miss the softness i'd place in my footprints with each step i'd take. please, please tell me where did that joy go that had
The little girl Could just not sleep Because her thoughts Were way too deep Her mind had gone Out for a stroll And fallen down
I once had a dream That I could fly. I flew so high, Oh so high, Now that I think back That was a scary thing
Let's be lonely together We'll sit by the fire and you might call me a liar Cause I stole some Monopoly money while you turned your back Or I stole some of your food and had a light snack
Enveloped in a blanket of sauna, the weight of humidity calms me. Faint breezes bare relief only when I need it. Our porch seems to sit like a tree house Here in the branches of my childhood climbing tree.
Tears set in blood on a child's face, A child betrayed by older men, Dissolve with a blush of embarrassed shame, As five long years of silence begin.   Confused hands tremble in a disoriented state,
Lisa Frank is dead, She's buried in the ground, And with her lies our childhood, Still, without a sound. With every generation, A passing interest dies, Wait a couple decades, 
I was barely thirteen when it happened. Sure, it wasn't that long ago, but if you were in my shoes, 3 years seems like a very long time to be away from your parents.
I hate the feeling of nostalgia. I can try to go on a walk in the road, just to clear my head. But all it does is stuff my head with more memories. The summer afternoons after swimming in the
we're all human  no matter what religion we follow or dont follow   we're all human  no matter what culture we belong to we're all human  no matter what ethnicity we are we're all human
Scars Naeha Inapanuri   The scars that trail up my arm Forged in the fires of my stupidity No longer burn No longer hurt Merely a memory from the past
At 9 you will discover feel that you are So grown up-and in too many ways you are Because you have to be but please remember That it’s okay to be a kid
I look at myself in the mirror and only see a monster. I see the fat that sticks off of my stomach; what am I? Pregnant?! I see the stretch marks that line my legs, I must be fat.
The hallway was quiet.
Dear childhood,
Dear Insecurity,  We've been friends for what seems like too longI'm but a child, with youTuggingPullingDragging me along
Dear Mom, You Are Right I know you Love That Life is passing so fast I was just in little league I was just learning to walk, to ride, to drive Now suddenly I am 18 I am an ADULT
Remember when I was born? Remember when we went to Las Vegas? Remember when we went to Chicago,
Silver Railroad planks History humming in the distance Laughter cascading through the air Brave fools and silver History growling a little bit closer Scared fools run back
Dear Mom, Dad, Sis, and Brother, And my dear beloved other, Dear the squish of soft, wet clay, And an overdue Good Day, Ukulele indie bands, Graphite smudged across my hands,
Whomever it may concern, Grab as many chairs as you can- six or seven- create a square space bordered by the chairs-backs evenly together- It won’t work if the chairs are too far apart.
Dear Childhood Self, The giants surround you Filling you with feeling But what feeling? Wonder, excitement, joy. Half a mile of red.
When looking outside All you could see was white. He brings me hot chocolate And we sit in front of the fire. He looks at me,
I am from a no college family, from a brother in trouble with the law, and another brother with a mental illness.
So fragile, I feel like I am glass About to break, about to crash The sun here all day, and gone in a flash Taking in the fresh scent of freshly-mowed grass
Dear Mom and Dad,   I have just six months left in this home This home of tears Of constant wars Of too many nights gone without saying
I Daddy wraps his arm round Mommy's waist. Mommy holds my hand. She knows her love's not a waste.  Brother grips my small fingers with love and face aglow.  Sister clings to Daddy's leg threat'ning to ne'er let go.
Everything I am is tied to my stomach. I feel everything so intensely; sometimes, I feel the wind get knocked out of me. I am convinced there’s a little girl in my heart pulling the strings from up above.
I was a young girl Confused with the things I had experienced and seen I was too curious I tried to experience love So imaginative
Dear Childhood,   I’m sorry, I can’t seem to save you. No matter how hard I try, things always fall through. You’re dangling over an endless void
When I was a child I wanted to be so famous that I would be able to touch the star. Trust me if I could meet him again I would ask what makes him dream so far?
In my new yard, running my hand over the rough bark Yes, this tree felt like home, like it was meant to be; it felt like art Like a flat palm into fingers, it grew out An atrium grew to encase a heart beating loud
It was when the happiness was abundant in life. It was when all I needed to be happy were some toys.   It was when the bad people only existed on Superman.
"you still kick it in the slums      ? you still sell drugs   ? you still like to party       ? you still binge n get fucked up      ?"  
what I remember about you. Calloused toes perched on the edge of a rough wooden plank, goggles pulled tight against SPF-oiled skin. Untamable golden-brown curls submerged in Ozark waters.
I used to use you as a shelter warm, When the night was dark and silent to me, So then I could drown out the sounds of storm; You were my comfort against the fruit tree. As I grew older, I stopped needing you
To that tree on the hill On that lonesome hill That saw me fight My spirit killed That saw me rise And roll through my free will  
Dear Childhood, I had been  wrapped In your warm, comforting arms For seventeen years But then, as the minutes ticked away to midnight I felt your grip loosen as you prepared
Dear Little Me,  Please take some advice.  Slow down.  You will grow up.  I promise.  Time will march onward like a faithful soldier.  You can try to stop it,
We are all hidden inside Man’s inculcated exhaust; They teach us a planned life, to which we comply. Our children’s world (with age) turns to a desert, dry.
Dear Mother,  Hello, I just wanted to say you aren't a mother.  I mean a mother couldnt do what you did to me could she?  You left me in the streets so you can get high. 
To my father— I addressed this with “to,” Because “dear” felt wrong. It’s hard to call someone “dear” With a history like ours.
Dear Childhood, I wish I had gotten to know you better How long ago was it that I left? It was certainly early
Through the Years
Something came back to me today As I sat near the window and watched the sky turn grey.  It drizzled then began to pour  And the wound in my healing heart became an open sore.   
Dear Life, I remember a time when it was cool to rhyme, and parents would applaud because you knew that dog rhymed with hog and log.
An aftertnoon stroll has me walking by houses,   with doors that let me back   into realities I used to know. Run down homes with doors whose    screens are coming off the hinges, with doors that
Here I lie Nostalgia overcoming me with the past I once lived Oh how I wish I was there once more How happy I must have been The gleams in my eyes
In your early stages of youth, that is the time to find out who are you? 
  I am afraid of the dark and falling and those shadows you see in the corner of your eye. And all of these fears probably stem from that time when I was young,
Laughing and playingBarefoot, hair flailingSurpassing fear, Climbing treesRunning wild and chasing dreams
WhiteSoftStuffedBlue eyes mirror my ownMy guard through the nightPuppy
My Mother, is someone who... Wouldn't be the person you would run to. ...Most of the time. But my Father is. My Mother, is someone who likes to tell you you're perfect the way you are, Abnormalities and all,
Silence. The house is filled with silence. Daddy's battered Subaru sits in the driveway. Is he here to see me? His little girl, His little mouse. A manila envelope, A few words,
Rushing water passes by me A prickly green dome surrounds. My eyes hold the afternoon sky To watch the hours pass by as it bleeds and dies.   My stretching hands reach for their friend's,
It was ages ago But my mind recollects these memories once more I can still hear the laughter from it's wooden door The dancing footsteps on the floor And my father's voice cloaked in a snore
  Can I walk those old roads Back to when my only ambition  Was to be happy  When my dreams were free of restraints When the only feeling I had Was Naughty and Naughty 
Linda Hayden                                 Maple Leaf Marmalade colored trees blazed against the cold, whirling skies overhead. I picked up a maple leaf that showed itself
Going through the scales That I remember so well The callouses on my fingertips There since childhood You always remember your first violin The squeaky strings And stretched horse hair
  I lost my life to a familiar face, He went by the name, Past. He shot me down with bitter memories. He poisoned me with lies.
Your three pigs, all small roundabout figures Narcisstic parasites that do all but quiver.  Your three pigs, are found to be dead. It is not my fault, I did not make their bed. I told you once, twice, now thrice.
Down grape vine hill Just by the old shop But not quite the pasture They sat there rusting Their eyes fogged Their color faded By tiny cat paw prints In the dust  
I wore red, a red so vibrant one could spot it a mile away. I wore red, when I saw his dark fur coat as I walked everyday. I wore red, with a basket in hand I would disobey.   He wore fur,
When I was a small child, My aunt adopted a puppy so small and wild, His golden fur was as soft as can be, And even now that he’s grown he means the world to me,
Do you remember? How we used to play pretend? And giggle and laugh Until the day's end? Do you remember? The many adventures we took Together as partners, With every step, the earth shook
I was born with puppet strings in my skin. With hooks in my joints and a painted-on smile. I was born to please and placate, To be Mommy's Little Angel (To look pristine). I was born to vomit bubblegum pink
the illness of unrelenting thoughts cleanses you by the talk of fools one day the shadow brick built world built in spite of youth comes tumbling down  tick tock take time
Intact in my eye are a five year old's streets I peeled oranges bored in Sunday-School pews Seldom a shoe on my naked free feet Never my knees without  blue bruise The table clothed mountain ,
  No stain no smudge no worldly wrong Can silence the sound of childrens song No Power of money nor chains of might
Who stole the light from your eyes? I would say don't give me that face But I know there must be a reason for it   A reason I cannot solve Nor stop, Nor save  
The monsters aren’t under the bed (They’re in the walls) Creeping from their quiet crypts Milky white complexion and cavernous cheekbones Is this real?
My childhood ended at six years old.Nothing would ever again feel secure.My very bed was even tainted,Soiled by the skin of a towheaded creatureThe likes of which I’d never seen before.
as the woman who brought me into this world lay still in the bath tub , she moved, arms suspended in the water, ears just above the line.
Of all my fears, I never feared, That you would ever leave me.   From countless nights, To endless days, My nonsense fears, And foolish ways, Your gentle heart would calm me.  
The wheel never stops turning, From the moment we take our first breath To the moment we take out last. Once we open our eyes We must begin the cycle of life. But it is not how it was before.
Change is inevitable Change the inevitable Life is a repeating bell curve Ups and downs on a massive scale And America is on the down turn -                    Unemployment: 4.5%
When I was a kid I learned what it meant to have privilege. I learned what my skin color meant for my advancement. I never felt very smart I was just able to talk to adults.
Spring mornings, with a fresh golden mist,And heaven’s dew doth rest,Along the rows of tulips be,And it seemed I was alone, just me. Then, a fluttered sky,With beings white, and coming nigh,I shuddered in fright, only to find,Their sweet lovely ho
Twinkle twinkle little starYou always put me in a tranceSo beautiful and brightYou were my good ol' pastScience, knowledge, rocket scarsWhich I was never thankful forBecause now after they came
The floor has rotted and falled to the mossy ground below. The roof caved in and the walls could snap at any moment. But I remember. I remember when it used to be a place of freedom
As a kid, I really wanted a puppy, my mother simply refused. She got me a fur-real pet, I wasn’t amused. “It’s kind of like a puppy!” she said
Early morning-when darkness has not yet been chased away by the fury of light-I look to the stars.In their magnificent realm they are the rulers,but in ours,they are subtle sings of hope.
The sentence of an almost adultFor the crime of surviving this longNot livingEyes closed, shut tightThe only thing that had my name on it before now were
Hey, remember the days, Food displays and September birthdays, Serving paper noodles and meatball mâchés? Our creations were unparalleled, Unmatched, nonpareil.
Sitting in the dark Listening to them yell I watch from the stairs This is my hell Am I the reason? That they always fight What did I do? That causes this every night
I’m seventeen years old. The real world is coming at me fast, Not quite yet at terminal velocity, But I’ll be getting close. I have a new hand to hold,
there is a house on 8th street with low ceilings and kitchen cabinets painted lavender
we were happy once back when we were but children, giggling at the minute moments innocent, but ignorant. not yet accustomed to the term depression
I am from teddy bears From a burning heater and vibrant evergreens I am from the sparkling Lights and hopes of snow that I knew would never come I am from art and glitter glue , walking down halls that felt like pre school
I tried to tell you      When I was twelve years old     That I was experiencing something I couldn't nor wanted to explain    
My baseball mitt Stands in my closet, Lonely and bored, Gathering dust, Its leather longing to catch baseballs
I used to practice riding My two-wheeled chariot of blue metal  With flames on either side, Its rubber handlebars steering me— And sometimes, my mom pushing me—
So long ago I barely know Much of It now I remember not Of what I thought So long ago I barely know
Practicing t-ball in the big field behind our old house , you pushed me hard,  you made it count. Dad what did i do ? I remember you helping me, no training wheels on pushing me along Dad what did I do ?
when we met as fledgeling adolescents on that solstice day, the lake was blue-- no, grey-- no, the color of bitter
How did this come to be? Like the bird that forgets to fly, I am grounded, without purpose. I shout below, why? To know again,
Gone are the days When everything seemed right Gone are the days When everything was alright Gone are the days
Expression: showing emotions through colour -- Music -- words -- creation. You give other people insight Into your feelings, because Humans Are Social Creatures. When you're healthy and young,
Naivety was the epitome of my childhood and adolescence  Naivety barred me from the veracity of life I was hopeful and enthusiastic  Of life and it’s beginnings
Recess was the next best thing to Christmas morning. It was a place of laughter and freeze tag. Children grew up with the monkey bars and swings.
I am kid again
I catch my 10 year old little brother staring down the weighing scale I guess you can say That’s he’s a bit... Broader Beefier Fluffier
the faint smell of crayons, adhesive, and floor wax filled the air. i shot an anxious smile at my mother and she nodded.
Sliding, sliding, sliding down the yellow slide Back to when I was only five Back to the sandbox, wooden swing set and towers so high. Moments fill my head when I was a kid, playing imaginary games with my brother.
it's just lately I've been thinking about you and the things we used to do always running around townwithout a care without a frown before the world started ragging on us before it started showing us what we're not 
When I was a child My eyes were bright like Fire They used to be Filled with ability Filled with Desire But there is no use is Wishing airplanes to fly higher when The pilot turns
Is Garbage Dump My Childhood? I know not Who is my father When I was only eight years old Mother's love also left me alone Still I remember Inconsolable face of mother
Running with glee down the cobblestone street,full of youthful joy and never downbeat.Playing football with all the neighborhood kids,being a nuisance and banging garbage can lids.Kicking a tin can and throwing stones,childish pleasures and prepub
Footsteps tapping lightly against the road beneath my feet, I walk under the streetlights; across concrete rivers I leap-   Spotlight on! Dancing under the orange light
Gather ye round, kids, would you like to knowAbout how I took up the art of writing poems?Let me summarize my 18 years in all of their glory,As you sit around t
I took the pen where words failed me I had no sword to fight, The dragons that had besieged me From day to my very first night I wrote to silence screaming And bid demons stay away
I awoke to a loud bang as my room was filled with the Flashing blue and white lights. This was normal in my life because my parents loved to fight. My father while high had beat my mother because she was a "bother".
Closed. There's a dream in my head and it's making me Ill. Swimming, These aren't my thoughts. I wouldn't couldn't never would do that. But I did. Dreams
I am from my blue blanket Climbing out of my crib To always eating without a bib From playing mermaid in the bayhtub From always saying "BaBa Bub" I am from Blue's Clues and Bernstein Bears
You leaving, changed me. It sounds like the wind rustling through the trees. It smells like the air after a long rain. It tastes like strawberry licorice.
Originally this was all about emotion, But in my mind that caused a commotion. Because I don’t write for the benefit of me, I write for the enjoyment of little chickadees.
Ever since i was young  i grew up all alone  i carried a hammer  to try and repair my home  but nothing seemed to work until i was relieved and shown  the power of poetry  on a bet tv show 
Happy Wanting to convey that taste of childhood...bliss, Before it slips Through My hands gripping the bars-
Words can be strung in an order,given purpose—made into an illustrationof what’s in a child’s mind, a childwhose mother and father are fightingover and over, all the time.  Thescansion marks where the child
It takes me back to when I was young, Bold. Fearless, and told to “Rub some dirt in it,” Before being fit into a mold And told That this is what life is.
Ethereal eulogies engraved in grey, it's sad how we try to cremate memories in one sentence. Italic fonts and sentimental phrases barricated in quotations cannot bear the weight of one's life story_the metamorphosis of one's soul.
Back when the two pillars of freedom collapsed A people, galvanized, suited up and axed The chance to make peace by going to war Without ever asking; What are we fighting for?
Hidden beauty lingers, often we can not see, What the colours show so daintily, When the children play among the swings, And the red-haired angels fly with those feathered wings, Oh, how I love the thoughts in mind,
Dear Child,   I want you to come into the world And I don’t mind if you cry For it means that you can breathe It means you won’t die   I will hug you to slumber
You are the aching breaths The struggling steps i’ve taken to the healing powers in tomorrow Tears marked with death You no longer have control over my sorrows  
I am from my mother’s kindness and both of my grandmothers’ gentleness. From Paducah to Lexington to Georgetown to Paducah. A picture perfect family to one ripped apart because of divorce.
the culdesac is quieting. the sun is readying for bed, and the streetlights are soon to come on. most have been called in for dinner, yet a few stragglers still remain, in denial of both the ending day,
Worn and torn, you have been through all, Happily by my side since I was small. Intricately woven and embroidered by hands that did care. To me you were the perfect gift.
Day 1 Trigger-happy gigglersWe laugh on instinctErupting roars around the roomlike criss-cross apple sauce trip minesToo short for ridesCondemning tattle-talesSelectively breeding kickball sides
i once read that there's childhood, and there's childhood aftermath.
I reminisce of weightlessness:  peering down into 10, 20 feet of air. My delicate days,  I recall, as a haze  full of branches: a careful cloud  of offshoots  that, long as I could, 
When I was three years old, And admittedly, not yet very bold, I was given a pink Powerpuff Girls pillow by my parents to hold, It would give me magic powers too I was told,
when i was a little girli dancedand they said stand in lineand eventually i stood  
In the moments of doubt and uncertainty leapt off your tongue and spilled over into the thin air resulting in the warmest embraces and the wisest words exchanged allowing you to fall gently asleep in your darling fairy room lying your little head
In the dim suburban townhouse in which I stay,there’s a photograph of my extended family,smiling together on my grandpa’s lawn on Kelley’s Island. I visit there every summer, and that trimmed grass has never changed.The mini-golf course hasn’t cha
I had a Kids Bop 5 blasting in my own CD player Watching crayons melt into the black leather of mama's Infiniti And Orange Crush from 7/11 was about the only reason I would put my shoes back on.
Your Beautiful  Your Inteligent  Your Needed  You told me these things when I was young I never belived the words you told me  I threw myself down  And told myself I would never be loved  But 
It's the chick who used to sit on stairs of University High Walked the halls at lunch time, searching for peace of mind Because at home I didn't fit in, a real black She
A soft breeze rolls across The hills of my aunt's property. Wheat nearly ready to harvest As the Summer quickly draws to close. Moonlight pours from a cloudless night sky Onto a canvas of stalks -
My greatest weakness is fear. But it's not just any fear, it's a disease. It creeps and crawls onto every decision. It beats me down into indecisiveness.
  Shadows of purple periodically interrupted by flashes of fluorescent yellow Innards warmed like melted caramel Riding in a car, late at night, I felt safe.  
RED
The Mirror held a moving reflection without capture.   Vibrations in air that allowed ears to be full of rapture.   The sounds of her voice lying next to you.  
It was grandpa’s old cigar box with my name inked on it in green When opening that rusty latch A flush of grandpa released;   Cigar smoke
If there was ever one thing that I could never live without, I'd know exactly the object, without the slightest doubt.   Every day since I was born,
"Flight of the Impatient Snowflake" by Naomi Wallerson Snowflakes fall outside the windowRacing each other to the groundBecoming one as they reach the endThe end of their flight from the sky to the ground
Childhood is the playpen that keeps out the real world; holding you close till you're readily unfurled At the beginning it's the ignorance that keeps us at ease
I have a person in mind while I write this poem She battled cancer for years and at first she won But like the return of a storm and the vengeance of a brother, when it came around again it overcame and overtook her.
a child's eyes are so unbiased, so curious and loving of the world to return to the days where the moon followed me home in the car window would not only be a miracle, but a blessing
Visions of a little girl distract my days& haunt my nights  
I grew up with Seuss and SilversteinRoahl Dahl and Robert FrostI live with MayaAnd I run with NikkiSandburg he's always whisperingHemingway holds my handAnd Shakespeare keeps on reaching
Dreaming There in the dark Memories visit me As clear as if they’re happening All over I’m seven again A flashback to my childhood
When I was five, I saw a cloud in the sky.   It looked like:   The places where fairies slept
Child,      I’m sorry for the cold      And the pictures in the snow        Your bright red cheeks were only reflections      of the season        Your tears ran down in the cold
Don't you go fret now hon The kingdom where children go hand in hand Blue glistening oasis in the sun The perfect wonderland   unrealistic hope obscure dreams in the mind
He moved here in the fifth grade, Immediately we were friends. Or at least i thought we were...but i guess it all depends.  The years ticked past,and the bullies came at me stronger. He was there every second, without him or his brother i doubt i
I still remember the young girl with the braids in her hair, Living her life freely without a care anywhere, Playing double dutch and hopscotch at the park, Tripping and falling creating scars and marks,
Read me a storygrasp me in tightrecall your bedtime luxuriesthat befall be a Goodnight.I'm still waiting. .
I remember the smell of flowers Swaying slightly Beautiful images Stitched into themselves As the birds sing of love And eyes being to meet And laughter is the only audible sound
Let’s play a game   Let’s pretend that we’re lying on the grass Staring up at the bright blue sky And making wishes on dandelion clocks
All of my unrealistic expectations were created by that explorer.  
In my hand I hold a sword To defend or to slay? As one you are the victim And the other you have prey. Future odds determined by what A past has written. What good is old and wise
It smelled like old graham crackers, Soggy cinnamon bread crumbs years stale.   It smelled like too hot plastic, When jungle gyms were pirate ships, Sharp teeth lurked below.  
 
I'm am from peaceful summer days with busy and cold nights I am from my secert hiding net, below the porch I am from where music sets the soul free and helps the youth speak their mind.
I was born in January, many don't remember because often my birthday falls on the same day as civil rights day, and the oppression of rights is much more important
A fork parting the road, Forever veiled in mist.   Offered two roses, of ravens Of angels. For which to reign in light, Or shadow.   Marched through heart, To seize both kingdoms.
      Rock-a-bye, baby Won't let you drop   When the wind blows,
When I was young, My mother spoke to me in a foregin tongue.
Memoryze  
Why couldn’t I just be born a wizard,
Remember when you first started school
I am from lilac bushesGrowing tall and full like small treesBlooming a beautiful purple in the springAnd filling the yard with a wonderful scentThat can comfort me even now,Even on my worst days
I was "perfect" I was cute I was an A+ student I was talkative I was curious I was a performer I was a jiujitsu competition winner I was obedient  I was tired before, I am tired now
Sticky, pale fingers Black hair a mess Limbs of no descernable length  Tangled around a fence Mirthful laughter Reddened cheeks Sneaking the fruits Behind the shed
The frantic forest floor,it was so cluttered once,every rustle was news, unsilenceable.Leaves fell, animals tracked through the dappled shifting sunlight, and it was all important.
Barefoot river child Dirty hands, dirty eyes What have you seen? Remember the days  Forget those nights Please just sing with the chickadees There's laughter in the sun above
When I was in high school I was very conscious of the way I smiled And talked and laughed and sat And I never knew where to put my hands As I walked down the hallways And I was usually looking down
Even as a child, I new his super power, He could light up the tallest buildings, even the Willis tower. He would take me to the batting cages, and ice cream shops galore,
getting tucked into bed  kisses goodnight  telling stories  turning on nightlights   being told "i love you"  before they close the door care with the flu a broken house runaway dad
Im from Fudge From long games of hide n' go seek
A strange affinity to male teachers One would suppose her sick   No, not sick.. Maybe she liked the attention Of course such a surface observation was not correct She was a recovering addict  
    A crack in the concrete patio runs  from one corner to the other.   Ant mound molded from dirt and sand envelops  a section of the wound.  A child 
When Mother sent me out to playJust in the garden there,I saw a flower in the bedA crimson rose of deepest redI drew my sword, beware.Imagine now Red Dragon’s glareHis eyes sun fire hot,
Remember when you were a child?   Running free outside, When your aspirations were wide. Swinging on the swings and pretending you had wings.    Watching cartoons on a sunday afternoon.
When I was younger and the world was bigger I’d often travel far, far away To places where I was happy and unaware Drive on, drive on, until we reach tomorrow day  
When I was twelve,  I was so down, Seemed so easy to put on a smile,Not everyone knew,
There were candles in her eyes
To the worrisome little girl I was: Things will fall into place.It’ll take time.Tears will be cried.But things will fit together again,Even if they’re all broken now.
Sat back to watch the branches sway
I wasn't the only one playing dress-up I ventured into my mother's closet And entered a new world
Let's pretend
Once upon a time I had a story too- Once upon a time my voice meant something too- But, that mattered none to you-  Because once upon a time is only fairy tale you said to me-
Fearing the Future
Theres a man over there A boy over here I am just, right in between "This is stupid!",the boy screams "Fight it", the man calmly says In the background a band plays To the left there is a teen
Somewhere the old songbird still sings She preens while he avoids mirrors dry bed, once a creek 
  Memories are a part of me, They drift apart from me. So many thoughts, just like my old matchbox cars, Simpler times---remember pogo sticks and toy guns,
When I was a kid,
Down by the river  in the holly hocks,  two kids open an old tin box.  They swing their poles   and string their hooks   all in the noon-day heat.  But the only bites   they get all day  
1 mississippi, 2 mississippi, 3 mississippi, 4 mississippi, 5 mississippi. I just wasted 5 seconds of my life. 6 mississippi, 7 mississippi, 8 mississippi, 9 mississippi, 10 mississippi.
Cut offs instead of skirts, t-shirt instead of sweaters, earbuds instead of earrings, is what makes my life a lot better.   Didn't fake a smile as a kid,
Mommy always said
I wear my scars like a badge of honor.
            I used to watch the golden sunset with you and make sand castles. I used to play with your hair and make you laugh.
Illusions casted Childhood memories awake Clear lenses of me 
Shouldn’t it be funny
You were a very suicidal child.
One day you realize
Vivid pictures; envision a soul, lost in the thoughts that'd keep a grown man cold, poor kid, just 16, livin in hell, fightin demons while he deals with the swells,  of all the dangers and how cops fancy the cells,
Once, there was a little girl
She
She was a beautiful gleam of light –that last bit of gleaming sunset that strikes through the sky like the chiming ring of   a spoon on fine crystal. She was a lone dandelion seed floating on the breeze,
Peddling fast down that black slate, circling that busy cul-de-sac. I peddle faster. That snowy dog stares at me through the silver gate next door- one blue one green. I peddle faster.
Winter time has come at last It's time to play, forget the past We'll jump in the rain and play in the snow When we'll come home, nobody knows   We'll build a snowman, we'll slide down a hill
When I stood in front of the crowd, I wanted to run, but my voice wavered, my hands shook.   When I stood in front of the crowd, I wanted to cry like I did when I was child,
I look back think about how we all grew up too fast used to be playing in the rain  making paper airplanes and coloring outside the lines
Young Learning Unknowing at times Shy My childhood had all of these Like a cherry blossom waiting to come up, it took me time to be who I am today My childhood was different.
Oh how it is to ponder, when my brain is way out yonder
  You twisted my mind,       With your words and your lies. You stole away my childhood,       In every way that you could.
Behind the mask I have been stripped Stripped away from all that was mine I am just a plain face Left out in the cold to wither away My eyes fill with tears I am a souless soul
You act so tough, You act so brave. But really, you are the empty beer bottles that you used to hide.   you couldn't face the world with who you really were. you had this foundation
Work hard and when that is not enough work harder, Work until your flaws fade to black, Work until people stand up and take notice,
Once I forgot the tune to a song  once I got my spelling words wrong once in PE I fell on my face 
O’ childhood, you are gone like a feather that blew away in the wind. The years ran by and took away my endless carefree days of playing around. “Why did you sprint so fast and where did you go without me?”
built in a time when children knew better his hands not yet weathered the cabin in the woods stayed standing often stirred awake by the purity of child’s laughter
Tell me a story, Father
I gaze into the mirror, wait that isn't me Someone else is looking back at me An eldery man, clean shaven with striking brown eyes I then realize, they are mine. Sunken cheekbones of slow death
  The only time I believed in you,
My mother tells me I`m a little girl  becuase I laugh because I go sock slidding in the halway or because I love superhero comics she says my freinds are little girls becuase we`re happy
A car crashed After being quiet abashed From a seed of pain
A human has two hands Made to explore the land And touch all that is grand Shaping the world into a dream
swing sets---have this way about them when you’re up in that momentary air you can reach up and catch infinity before sewing it into your pockets. -----for that split second gravity has nothing on you.
    The day I left behind childhood I just simply stopped and  understood That my playtime was done And all the things I found fun
In an abandoned house,a handmade doll sits atop a dusty shelf.
“Blood is thicker than water”
  Little boy don't you see? This life I live isn't made for you nor me. For what I carry and for what I hold. This fixture you have of me, isn't the truth of what I told.   Little boy don't you see?
Everything around me feels odd
Sitting by the vacant school parking lot
When I was but a young lass not very far in the past I remember sitting at the ramily table with food dishes around me glad my snomach was empty so I could eat until I was unable.
I am happy to be angry so I smile Yea I was angry, cause my dad left my mom.
The quiet assumes the guise of a room, abandoned by many. Ghosts of a family. Once existed happily. Outdated portraits grinning, forgotten by the youth. Ignorant of truth.
Mama, I know you're hurting but I'm hurting too, I know you're angry, Mama, But I'm angry too, So stop raising your voice and listen, One, two, thee, four, five,
She was the glass she held in her hand. Smooth and strong, calm and contained like the like the liquid in the glass. Then, life caught her off guard and she let the glass slip.
A new life Potential with no seeming end A new beginning, no sign of strife But to begin, however, is also to end   A military child Moving from state to state
How I miss the olden days
We're all innocent and naive in our youth Oblivious to the strife around us There really is no use Though helping out is a must Cheer us up when feeling down Can't help but love everyone
I remember life as a child Man were those times something wild
Little girl dresses and fancy shoes,Vibrant pink hues,A cotton candy horse in the corner,The rose petal pillow to make the bed seem warmer,High on a shelf a flushed colored ceramic bunny,
spinning,
I don't read you  Not anymore I haven't forgotten  The joy I got Whenever you opened Nor the adventures I am just too old now But my memories are pressed in you
Thousands of voices, Millions of people, Harmony, But not a symphony,
Daddy, do you remember when I was young and I'd run to you with all my problems? You always promised me that you'd do anything to make me happy, You didn't want to raise your children the way you were raised.  
I remember, Dancing in the living room,  Singing off tune, I remember Playing in the dirt,  rolling in the mud, I remember,
The legend of the koi fish goes that if the koi fish swims up the waterfall  it one day it will become a dragon.    Since I was little,
I'm my own mind,thoughts, and process Creating thoeries from my past Asking why did I turn out the way I am Thinking sullenly like the dark clouds in the sky
I am from the cicadas of hot humid summers
This is an ode for the lonely one the precious princess in her castle with stuffed animal servants and an imaginary knights   This is an ode for the quiet one the bookish girl with sand in her shoes
you cannot overcome
Sounds chiming in my head, what Is that? I think I roll off the top bunk. THUMP! Squeak!
  I live in a world where a bud is a flower
I feel the whispers of a time
Floral prints and straw hats Sips of lemonade and a gentle scent of daisies Mix nicely with the cool spring breeze   It has just rained So grass sticks to the bottom of our feet
The first time I made you my hope, my soul cried, Loved one! And from there, I have not let you go, you're the reason for all my passions. With the love to the desired child, I’ve waited for you so patiently, waiting my whole life.
Walks up,coughs into the microphone,the audience shuts up,and I say:remember the 1990s?remember childhood?remember all of the TV shows that used to be on?
There is a yard And a great tall tree Instructing what to draw and write There is a fence of chain Between the lilacs and me There is a garden That only grows dirt
Education is the topic of my conversation Obtaining it and using it are my motivation
Hugs are weird Hugs are strange I do not want a hug No, no not now or later. The thought of someone engulfing part of their body around mines just creeps me out.
The youngest of three from the one you married  The second youngest of five that you claim as your children.  I was two when the divorced happened.
I am a bastored child. One Who's spirit is broken, while His imagination runs wild. I do not know my father, he is a stranger who never seemed to bother. I have no knowledge of the character of the man
I wonder when it all changed….
Whose flowers these are popping out of the snow
You couldn't achieve your dreams now you wanna live through me. Looking for my lost thoughts with wall in front of me. How can I achieve when you don't believe in me? It isn't my fault your dreams didn't soar like the trees.
Once, on a yellow piece of paper with green lines, he wrote a poem, And he called it "Chops" Because that was the name of his dog, And that's what it was all about. His teacher gave him an A 
The Treehouse   Wooden beams support, surround. Ladder, crow's nest, food abounds, Kitchen, rooms, high seas are found.   Magic beings to work her charm,
    The building blocks you put down stack so high that they touch the sky The skyscrapers you make are so tall they remind me that I'm so small And I admire your optimism
Slip slowly past the run down bar Past the street of collector cars To the place where the painted bench sits To the house where I lived   There’s the street that I ran down
Slip slowly past the run down bar Past the street of collector cars To the place where the painted bench sits To the house where I lived   There’s the street that I ran down
I hear the rain and I remember Counting thunder strikes Dancing barefoot in the gutters and Being forced to come inside. Hiding curled under covers Scared of lights and passing cars
growing up. what does that even mean anymore it doesn’t just mean learning it means learning to doubt yourself everything you thought you knew you felt for sure you would never do
Why is it kids are forced to grow up so fast? Never taking a moment to let their childhood last For them, adulthood comes too soon      Not even yet in their full bloom They start off innocent and pure
Gun shots,screams,known as the hood A small city where nothing goes good Too young to notice the pressure and pain
Hello, Dr. King, have you heard the news? Children are being stereotyped because they aren’t as intelligent  as child prodigies at age 3. What can we do to fix this? 
      What do I think when I hear someone my age say "I wish I was born in another time." ? I think how sad. In my opinion I would rather be in the 2000's than the 50's, 60's or 70's Here is why.
They do not see what I feel inside But they see the smile that I can not hide Day after day I please their needs  But I am never questioned about what I need What did I do
  I have to admit That sometimes I’m "not all there" I’m a great actor Playing the part And choosing what to share   I wake up and decide what character to present
My mind is no clockwork. It has no mechanistic rules of a clock, has no one destination, or a repetitive circle of lines on the edge of Time. My mind is constrained by the jail of clocks and schedules:
Control. Let it go hold it in Breathe Control. Hit a wall Scream so loud Breathe   Control. Uncontrolable emotions Cry like mad  
Dear Dollar Dahlia, My childhood was spent in your bloom. I plucked your purples and pinks Reds and oranges and yellows For my mother and for the table I put your blossoms in my hair
The light shines through the leaves burning iris after iris
In darkness they arise  the shadows of the night  a darker shade of black their movements silent  unpredictable  faces of evil appear  in the corners of where the light flickers 
When I was six, I would lift this rockthat lay between the swing set and the shedof the backyard behind the little condo off of Bear Hill Road.Underneath the stone were tiny little black spots
Children’s bikes laid in the grass, Skateboards scattered in the streets, Play sets empty but not broken ,Swimming pools filled with smiles ,Barbecue smells wafting into
Its raining again My body covered in mud My clothe drenched in water from the rain A signature of the rain  Unfortunately for me a pain Awaits The  pain from  dreaded strokes of my mamas cane
I thought he was intangible He's fragile He is frozen in time He's scared He is now going slow motion in reverse His words are misguided They tear everything apart He battles his secrets
I have walked 17 miles as of now Pretty soon I will reach 18 miles Along my walk, I have met lots of people Learned valuable knowledge Seen many wonders Where I walked was guided by my elders
Tell me how I am supposed to know what to believe in,
Train of thought is lostI stare at the emptinessNow my time is up  
When I was a young child I was abused.  I won't say which way,  how or even why I think it happened to me,  but it did.    My mother would tell me how  beautiful she was and how
Remember when us girls chased you boys? And we started that little kindergarten war? We yelled at - screamed at - all the little things Until the teachers deemed us,
Marble floors and polished glass,Shining like the mahogany grandfather clockthat gives off the scent of fresh pine and lemon.It sits quietly in the cornerObserving.  
Your children are an object of youParents you have
I wonder What it would be like If I had a father Who cared, Loved, Helped. I wonder What it would be like To not have to fight For steps, Small, Small Steps.
You told me I was your mistake The kid you wish you didnt make I am not the love child
I remember the breeze blowing through the trees, blowing from the east, to the west,  we called it "fresh". The beaches would call out my name, it was the same way, everyday. 
At sixteen years of age, in some ways I am not the girl I once was. I am not the care-free little girl who had no qualms. I am not the girl whom making friends was the easiest task in the world.
I'd fallen down. Snapped a Bone. You'd think it'd be the end. I disagree, it's where it all began. I'd been running - rushing to ring the bell. Open up! My future is calling!
A Dark Thing lurks As thousands of children Are born into this place   A Dark Thing watches As the children grow older And quietly learn about the world's cruelty   The Dark Things rears
I remember From many years ago The talking shadows   I was but a babe Lying in my crib
日本語で 小説を書く したかった   Nihongo de Shousetsu wo kaku Shitakatta   I wanted to write a novel in Japanese.   今までも
You know that moment? I know you do. When you realize that the things you have - are just to few. That shining moment inglorious, spotted where you just think, what am I doing?
Your life was rather short little tadpole And you never got to hop Your little legs seemed to
A perfect boat of gravy,A tender slice of lamb,Crispy green vegetables,Potatoes straight from the pan.  
mommy and daddy started yelling  they banished me and my sister to our room we cover ouur ears to mask the shouts we hope this will all end soon   the cops got caled again two or three inside my house
Ode to the Juvies, 
  And now here I am. Struggling to connect to a place. A place my parents called home, In this foreign land. I watch a man bathe himself on the sidewalk,
You are family Whom I have never seen The one that told me stories Whenever I was lonely I speak to you more than I do  to Him who took you             I’ve cried when you left me
One thing that I would change, would not to be for my life to be re arranged, from bedtime stories, to a goodnight kiss, these are the things that I really do miss. Days go longer, without my father,
Moments in time, captured and frozen forever. Is that not what photographs are? I know that when I sit down And look at pictures, I am thrust into that moment of time,  Living it over and over again.
I am from dinosaur vitamins from band-aids and H2O2 rinses.I am from rusted swing setsand broken plastic wiffle-ball batsthat have been tucked awayand have long sincebeen forgotten.
Identified by the marks of her own fingerprints,   the places where she had gone, and where she had left,   blurred into one and became all the same.  
My world was filled with swing sets once and monkey bars that gave me blisters. My world was filled with hopes of making it big time once, writing emotions into novels.  
  Little boy Joe and twin brother Nicky, Play pirate outside and often are icky. In their dad's study they find a large chest, And small captain fingers get it all sticky.  
Memories from childhood bounced out of a thick fog in her mind. Wishing her siblings would learn to leave her things alone. Wishing, for just one day, she could live in a quieter house.
Don't forget to say hello when I'm walking down the hall at school, and you see me look away. Don't forget to smile ate me once in awhile so I know you still care, even if I don't return it. 
      I am too young to miss my childhood.
Is the grass green like a summer’s day? No. Is the sky blue where children play? No. Is a little speck a dot? No. Does an old banana rot? No. Is Planet Earth not flat, but round? No.
Childhood swing
Sometimes I still dream Of the days When my hair was the color of Straw   When my cheeks were  Red Because the blood still ran   I dream of days when I was a Child
She believes. She believes in an unspoken rule. She trusts it, loves it. She lives by it. She is shamed when she tries to think for herself, even if it is to believe. 
I push back the clothes in my closet, trying to find a wall – hoping that I don’t. I hope another world exists back there Maybe better than our own Narnia or Never-Never land or any other land I wish
I watched them gulp the whole bottle down I know where one get its, but for the other I have no clue how They were the same, stubborn and loud One I could've stopped, the other I couldn't control
Senior year is magical Filled with memories and radical Ideas on who we are supposed to be Alive and free We say is what matters most
I tend to think often about dandilions cacophonus shouts of color on distinctly green and freshly cut lawns chubby fingers uprooting sticky pipe stems  charished flower buquets at the corners of smiles
People hustle and bustle byThey carry on with seem
I collected in a box all the things I left behind,
When I was six years old I sat in a darkened closet hugging my knees to my chest. 
My world has shattered,
  A Christmas tree puzzle sits in pieces on the dirty-white carpet floor. A little girl in a decorated blue sweater is looking out her rain-drenched window to see her slowly flooding street.  
Children fall one by one Their fate bring them into a dramatic stop Many children are at risk They don't have nothing They only have themselves They live in a world of violence  
I wrote this poem  because of a journal entry I wrote entitled--"Entries from an agnostic." T
The warm sun on my skin,
A walk down the open dirt road An adventure that’s never been told The sun is already at its peak   Gracing the surface of my cheeks, Rays seeping deeply into my pores, receiving the vitamin D
There used to be hope In the shape of trees And love In clouds And dreams In stars There used to be Reds And blues And purples And greens. But then we grew up.
Your first iPod: clunky, junky, heavy to the pocket ...not to mention kinda square. But, you adored it anyway, stuck replaying that one 90's pop song until you loved it,
My perfectly white blouse now harshly stained
Having to be in no particular place- Yes, you read that right. What a superb sensation! We must scurry to our destination.
i dream of happier days:before the cell phone,her now-constant companion.before computers, iPods.before she caredabout how she looks.about fitting in,conforming.back when a night light 
Never would you have met such a violent twelve-year-oldnearly threatening to punch an orderly who told her,patronizingly, that her seizing father should wait in the roomfor there to be space. My mother chose that moment
There is a little girlcrying out for her fatherlittle does she knowdaddy doesn't want to be botheredShe cries her tearsnot at all silent
They call me the "Ice Queen" for a reason. I honestly don't know what happened. Even when I was kid, young, naive, and believing in everything, I didn't believe in myself
from birth it starts life of joy and happiness to grow into the person you'll be its your childhood where your suppoosed to be loved the most year after years being a child your childhood
When I was eight you called me your flower. I fell in love right then. Be careful what you tell children Because they tend not to forget. I picked you lilies by the water
This is about my pathetic crush   The victim is sitting across the room I look over once in a while and squirming wih embarassment admire the nape of its neck   'wow'
Love. Breathe. Light. Smiles. Love.  Movement. Balance. Love. Laughter. Communication. Love. Interraction. Sharing. Love. Growth. Change. Love.
I remember that first day, even though it was many years ago. I was only three years old, but those three years had been amazing. However, they would never compare to the next fourteen.
One morning I woke to the sound of my Family's despair, and I ready myself for the day ahead and descend down my aunt's stairs. Why me? I asked myself sorrowfully.
Sometimes we threw punches, Both verbal and with our fist, Though the bruises left over, Whether on our ego or on our face,
    Painful Love   Once I felt the feeling... A feeling so true and good,
I listened to an old song.
It’s been five years passed…
It took me back
to when I was only 13.
For being so young, I was so haunted.
The world was black and white.
I lived in Arizona
but even the rays of lightcouldn’t 
penetrate my dark cloud.
I l
When I was at the age  of younger than I am now I would take hold of my bedroom door knob then hope, wish, and pray That when I swung it open I would be in another world I did dream
                                   
Do you believe in them? Day dreams of glitter. But as they say, everything that glitters ain't gold. And if it's not gold, then it must be bronze.
Life. It's a journey. Journey. It's made worthwhile by love. Love. It began with a friendship. Friendship. It's a strong bond. Bond. Time together that you enjoy. Enjoy.
He was special, He was my first kiss, He was my best friend, I wish I could see him again.
Take me to The Land of Childhood. For in Childhood no one dies. Everyone lives, laughs, and loves. There is music and wonder in the air That you cant help but to believe in things you can't see.
This child jumping around with a smile on her face, naked. Not only is she naked of clothes but naked of the harshness of reality.
Blood is pumped by the heartThe heart that beats with rhythmRhythm of the streetThe street where we grew upGrew up and grew apartApart from the worldThe world and each other of course
It's my time to learn my youth wasted asking you the questions I needed why ask questions when you feel defeated I feel so small, as you call on your favorites like an actor without lines
This axe of our views hides quietly away its blade rarely sees the light of day These days no one can get the axe   The teachers abuse and swear Some children find this case unfair.
I found out the prickling under Gap kids cotton, Is what you must buy and bury in closet trunks. The folded feminine other flesh made your marriage rotten. And Moms sick of campy pantyhose that stink like frothing funk.
  Ode to my greatest companion, Teddy Your small body, covered in purple fur, battered and worn down after over a decade of use
  Time is relentless. What used to feel infinite is now depleting, There’s no room for a father’s affection or a mother’s caress.   Instead I’m left walking through busy streets alone,
It’s past midnight, and at that, past my bed time. I watch as dad helps my mother load the boxes, Into her royal blue Volkswagen. It’s drizzling yet no one seems to care The thought of a slippery road never seemed
The smell of grass, It comes from a childhood far away. The earth, the sky, It reminds me of my every day. Simple and careful, No want to look a stray, There's no limit
He had large nostrils red hair and freckles. He was the second biggest boy in class and my friends were the smallest so I always fought him  when we wrestled with his posse.   
Cartoon Network, Nickelodeon Disney Channel and more Oh Cartoons, I do adore When I was little I learned so much Bubbles, her sweet and gentle touch Blossom was a leader and Buttercup didn’t back down
Accusations follow her in greeting bearing witness to a tainted art Sanctimonious companionship Unbalanced and unstable, she falls without arms.   Ink is bleeding deep Blossoming stains
Because of you I'm afraid. Of THEM, Your kind.   You left me. ABANDONED me. Without a care in the world.   They always felt bad for him. How you weren't there for HIM
You live, you die, you laugh, you cry That is how life goes, but i wonder why Some say it is like a roller coaster It takes you to your highs and lows Others say it is like a journey
A few weeks ago I walked into an abandoned house in my cul-de-sac, It was new yet rotten, tagged and trashed, violated mutilated desecrated dead, dying and forgotten… This wasteland of a property,… is a magic location, a haunted plantation, haunte
Synergy it must exist My class mates, nor I  must choose not to resist For all we have is this class to express, elaborate, and hope it all last I hope this semsester does not end to fast
Walk into class, look around, take a seat. Preparing for a test, fighting the urge to cheat. Teacher walks in without even a smile on her face. Doesn't say good morning either, oh what grace.
I write to release the anger and anguish of a childhood lost. I write to tell the story of becoming a mother and father to a baby brother at the age of thirteen.
Deep within the forest, inside the pine tree’s heart, Run the dearest of children to their own land set apart, The sun on the dirt, the trail well known, But to all who thread it a question is thrown,  
He died. Such a short sentence, not wordy Not eloquent, But what else can I say when someone mentions my dad? Or asks, "what's your father do?" Sometimes, I lie,
In the dawn, when the sky blooms rosy pink, And ignites with gold, I would dance in wild dales, And cavort through cloud-caked skies. My feet would lick up fairy tears, Suspended on trunks of grass,
You're not good enough, That's what mommy always said, Whenever I got a B instead of an A, That is, after screaming at me for being such a failure. She said this when my first boyfriend broke up with me,
My mother is the queen, For control is all that matters.   My father is the king, The foreseer of decisions.   Mother fends for her bishops, But they cannot save her children.  
Fault of Destiny As a female it is destine to endure the pain of feminism. The curiosity of Eve will forever haunt the innocent. A normal female
As a child I used to write haikus Back when we all would clap the syllables out. They were plain, and most ended up like this: I saw lightening It was scary and bright yellow It boomed all night long
  Books yellowed with age Passed on from generation to generation. Pages are worn, Pages are torn, Pages that are full of history. The distinct aroma of ageing paper, Fills my nose.
We frolic free As we play in the streets Stains of deep crimson mud On our little small feet Oh, how good it is to be A Child Not a care in the world As we enjoy youth’s pleasures
You stare at your reflection, Sighing at your imperfect complexion. Your now “okay” haircut that’s past the trend, And your pouty face you try to defend.
I wish I could be a child forever, clinging to my mother after a bad fall on the asphalt pained but safe in the knowledge that she is there; It will be all right.   But days go and the nights fly away,
There was a time in everyone's life whenMagicWas an acceptable answerImaginationRuled your worldAnd wishesWere made on starsWhen everyone's dream was to be president
Our clock is tickingAs our last years are coming to an endA time when we leave our childhood years,When we leave all our old friends.The old tree diesAnd the new roots beginAs we part our separate ways
Golden amber drips over the supple rising of skin Made crisp by the summer’s sun, droplets catch in the curves of her lashes “Never” floats through the breeze
“So, this is it...” says my dad from the hall outside my dorm room. The words hang like a streamer spanning the width of my door frame separating college on one side from my childhood on the other, Today he leaves me here;
Background: I wrote this during a time where I was hurt, confused and lost. Each stanza just came to me. It wasn’t until I finish writing and read over it that I know what I was writing about.
The wind in the willow the will o' the wisp   A treehouse down where I used to live Up in the willow the willow that weeps Outside the orchard my maple held me
Write. From a babe to a child, to a girl, to a...                                                                "Woman". My hand wrote more than any other kind But then, cocky girl pointed out in disgust,
She was said to have burning lips,The woman that worked at the corner storeShe had bright green eyes and saucy hipsThat made you shudder when you opened the door
  My story It starts in a budding household Not really broken But still in need of repair My parents They were young
  My story It starts in a budding household Not really broken But still in need of repair My parents They were young
  My story It starts in a budding household Not really broken But still in need of repair My parents They were young
  My story It starts in a budding household Not really broken But still in need of repair My parents They were young
Why do I write?Because it is the thing that lets me be creativeWhy does anyone write poetry?It's a song one can sing without knowing the correct notes
When I was young My Daddy read me stories as I drifted to sleep And I watched in awe as the peaceful melody of words evolved into symphonic wonder; a castle, a wish, a hope shone in my Daddy’s eyes.  
The boy was sitting on the grass, eyes looking past the trees. His words played with mass, falling. or flying with ease.   He followed the sunlight where it led down a path for the brave and afraid.
Bedtime is here It's time to sleep. "Aww momma! Not now! I cannot keep My dolly waiting for me!"   I'd pout! I'd hide! You name it I tried! I want 5 more minutes to play!  
I am an adult in a child's body,Borrowing Mommy's risque red lipstick,Wearing her sky high black heels, andStrutting around with her cell phone in my hand.  
The welling tears form a layer of haze from the outer to inner corners. I hold my breath hoping that the liquid will recede like a wave returning to its base from shore.
I remember a time Back when I was just a little girl I could be friends with you In my mind you were my world Back then, making friends
I once had a friend She liked to play house She liked the color red   I gave her a present When she had to go   I drew a picture Drawn in crayon It was her favorite color  
I remember one morning I sat on the porch and played with my dolls Gritty sand of the ground In my teeth Under my nails   I remember looking up There was a man walking down the road
I've heard and lived in such a place, where fear is no such thing.  Where happiness its cheery queen and laughter its lofty king.   Some do recall this wonderland a burden held upon them; where happiness and sounds of joy are envy growing on them.
Ya see black brothas always tryin to be trap brothas/or rap brothas Why don’t you wrap brotha Bussin out babies like morning sickness This continuous cycle is more than a sickness
When I was born, I stood on the shotgun seat. Danger was a challenge best met naïve.  My dad told me, “Sit down or you’ll get hurt.”
In autumn we looked for deer skullswith our palms outstretched,thinking that if we were deerwe’d long for children to collectfragments of our bodies in armfuls -wrap them up like sea glass,
  “Lean towards me,” he whispered. “No. Lean away.” The teacher was watching. “I have a surprise for you,”  he cooed. “Down here.” I leaned down,  peered under the table, then I saw it,
  Dolls, dress-up, hop scotch, and hand games. Those things I didn’t have time for at that age.   Growing up was the only choice I had.
To be crude, To be rude, Is something she never learned. To be sweet, To never cheat, Was stamped into her mind and burned.   A perfect little porcelain doll waiting in an abyss,
The smell of orange popsicles drip summer afternoons Daisies climb to the edge of scraped knees Kiss me gently, and beg to be tucked behind my ear,    I’ll take you with me   
In the summer we let our feet run black with dirt and pavement. Our heels pounded the sidewalks, our skin slapped the streets; each bound stung a little more than the one before.
I felt different as if somehow I seemed to glisten. The air was cold but I was warm. I was a light in the darkness. My eyes were closed, but i refused to open them. I was alone but I didn't feel alone. Everything felt perfect.
Theres something about the way you feel when getting mail doesnt excite you anymore when it goes from birthday cards  from your grandma to junk mail and bills   
Lines tell stories Lines tell stories. Stories that are made up of twenty-six letters Flipping and flopping are words that we can make out of twenty-six letters
On the outside, I’m perfect. I get exceptional grades, I talk to everyone, I share and let others confide in me, never the other way around, and I take care of others.Why can’t they see that when I smile I don’t always mean it?
It’s the end of summer, 2005A little girl stands amidst a seaof strangers, flowing around her,unobstructed. A thousand voicesmutter around her tiny, ten year-oldform but her voice, no matter how small,
Eyes in a haze Rotund stomachs, child’s play Smooth lawn, shaded concrete- taut, cool Here I man my wagon   Tears erupt to greet the wind Hairs along my cheek Tongue on the edge of wet lips
With the autumn winds I sway As the sun shines down upon me. A cloudless sky of grey Above and all around me. And the towering trees
  night in the family room dancing home to Alabama and Joseph heading to Tucson your best bet, the Queen of Hearts  
The thrill; haunting my dreams Pink is glistening before us Luminescent dots of yellow, Flicker in and out of sight. The meadows are knives and feathers All at the same time; Feet blackened as asphalt
  barriers worse than the Berlin wall and contraceptives combined our lives intersect nonsensical cyclical conjectures the hypocrisy blinding it slurs and it curses
The sun casts its blinding rays onto the snow-covered ground to create a glittering reflection that has always reminded me of broken mirror shards.
You've hurt me so much. But seeing you like this hurts. After all, you are my mother. It’s hard seeing you scared of yourself. It’s hard seeing you have bad dreams.
  I look into your eyes, and I feel adoration so strong. And as I watch you sleep so soundly,  I begin to get sad.  I know that one day you might be unfairly judged and your heart might get broken.
She was brought into this life like any baby girl would Had all the opportunities like every good girl should God was her hero and daily prayer became only common nature
The sand maneuvers its way between my toes as if that is the place it was always meant to be/ it sticks there and stays in that place for days until hands force the tiny grains to leave/ scrubbing my feet to be sure that every last grain is gone/
I’m from white church dresses and blue paint, From bleach that helped wash out the stains, From hair bows my mom would put in my hair because “it’s cute”, I’m from pink and purple flowers that grew in my grandma’s garden, From the blue kitty pool
  I’m from white church dresses and blue paint                                                                                  From bleach that helped wash out the stains                                                                            
My mother likes attention and she’ll do anything to get it. My mother likes Xanax; I've seen her pop it dozens of times. My mother likes child abusers because all of her boyfriends fit the definition.
At the age of 24I was driving down the urban road.The world seemed desolate,dark,alone,grim.In that drive of silence,I saw it.A faint green light.
    Pap Who   Pap who needs Pepsi like a meth addict And sits on his couch all day Who is fried bologna and potato chips Who is a quiet mouse but yet a wise owl.
mom read these stories       (but they were more than just stories) and I finally listened to the songs      (but they weren't just saying words) and my elementary teacher told us to write,
  Stressed out, exhausted, and irritated, scurrying back to my old, trusty Subaru Forester, I abandon the library and heaps of unfinished work I deserted with it. Only a handful of vehicles left in the parking lot.
When I was nine, I thought that every time my mom received a new name That I received it too.   I thought that names were like purple You can’t forget the red and the blue.  
Remember when the only thing that scared us was the shadow in our room.   We would be scared to look under the bed. And the closet was our only enemy.    Life seemed simpler when we were young.  
The time a capri sun lasted and hour and you hated taking shower. those days are now gone, no matter how much you hold on. you'd sprint as fast as you could just to catch that ice cream man.
  She woke up on the carousel Colors faded, face shaded The wind bladed across her cheek As sun gave way to dark.   Night came, she dreamt With eyes open, took in the sun
We are seen by the privileged Those young and naive The beings that cower For they see us as thieves   Though don’t be miss lead We come not from below But neither do we
Whispers in my head  The stranger voice that pulled my ebb, my flow  I look around me  These whispers became visible, ribbons of mist    Influences pulling, gnawing 
My first love was never a boy or girl or person stuck in between, It was never, mom or dad, brother or sister, Learning companionship through other humans.  
I am from cowboy hats, lumber and tools; from Dawn soap and coconut shampoo. I am from the sounds of country music blaring and Dad's chainsaw roaring. I am from the smell of fresh cut grass;
As I look out over this highway I think of all of the moments when you told me How beautiful I was How I was a prize How you would protect me from any others harm When we would cross the street
I am from gravel, From chrysanthemums an lilacs I am from the smell of gasoline and the taste of blood From the water faucet hiding behind the fence I am from the mossy, jagged rocks Engulfed by woods
While walking down the street one day I heard a small boy cry Why hath this life have no meaning And why do people die I thought to myself "oh small boy everyone asks someime"
I would say I love the like the night loves the day, But we cannot correlate the feelings of all the times I created each one. My poems were a song of sorrow, They expressed my deepest anger with the world I used to know.
They say to drop the past; that it is not important. How can one forget someone like you? Forget the memories of our joined lives? How close we were when we played "Store" and "Newspaper."
You say I lie I clearly can't remember Everyone forgets about me in December Friends quickly turn into enemies toward me No one seems to be talking about anything but me In a cruel way nothing but hidden laughs
Could I go back in time and speak to myself I would choose the Samantha of four or five years.
Pre-K was the land of nap time and crayons and letter printing. Pre-K meant having my name on the board 'Cause the bunny went around the tree and through the hole.
My world was turning crashing. I try to stand one hand against the wall. Efforts with no reward left in vain. Aching painfully tears of frustration running down my face. Everything is turning.
Sitting in the past, I see you wear a mask. Why can't you just be honest? I thought you were my goddess. What did I do you wrong? Was I not good enough? The world was against the two of us.
Staring out the window, I take a final look, At the place I spent my Childhood; the place I found Both friends and enemies. The one place I always found Someone to talk to.
I am from beloved dolls, from bubble wands and crabapple trees. I am from bright colors and playful spirits,Bookshelves and stacked boxes. I am from dandelions and low-branched trees.
In a wooden picture frame that sits on my dresser is an old photograph of a young man. He has his arm around a pretty girl and it’s all in black and white. Even though there is no color,
Ten years old I didn't have a worry in the world Eight years later the world is weighing me down I didn't do this right. I could be doing better. I'm selfish. I yell and scream.
Time flies way too fast There is no reverse Youth is fleeting My childhood is in pieces Is this what reincarnation is for? Re-do Do over Can I take everything I have done back?
I've looked into the faces of my elders and seen a child's tears. I've seen in their eyes the sadness that comes with wisdom beyond their years. Are adults hardened children?
Splintered amongst our feet, the birchwood door we have come to love. Gave comfort in time of refreshment. Praised security with needless fear. --A deep sigh in the stress--
The end of school is soon, But yet I don't want to say goodbye. When the clock strikes noon, I feel as if a part of me will die.
One sweltering Saturday morning, I knew I grew up. It was not because I pressed my back against the wall and marked a new line. Two inches taller. It was not because I made my own breakfast.
I've taken the drive to Sacred Heart Medical Center with my father. Twice. The first time, my life was at stake. But the second time, was what nearly killed me. I was told
Blue like ice, Shines like stars, Brings joy to every heart. Makes you happy when you're sad, Makes you wonder why you're mad. Makes you laugh, Makes you cry.
You were once like me Young, innocent and free Forgive me, if sometimes I act so wild Remember, I'm just a child
I wish that you could see the world from her point of view It's a beautiful magical ancient place but yet it feels brand new. On her window there's a musical pitter patter sound
Cracked cement sidewalks, dusty, chiseled powder. I remember when there was fresh gray mud, smoothed over by Dad’s tools my hand pressed square into that cement, an impression to last.
The songs we heard under the wooden porch Are still carried in my ears – ringing something awful. Sighing anger is dead when we’re away and the Great, wet blue is hanging above – judging
When I was young, I saw the world Through glasses lined with sparkling pearls. Shaded blush and tinted rose, Where everything was good as gold. But later when it faded light,
I can still feel the moist coolness of the damp earth on my bare feet from that summer. I am lying on a wooden bench, my body so naturally pressing against its surface.
She ran from the bus after school to meet you, to have you pick her up and spin around. Her giggles infected you and you finally set her down.
Mommy, why are my hands so small? Why does everyone say I look like you when I don’t see it at all? Why do you say I have ocean blue eyes and run your hands through my hair when it’s nothing but dry?
With a traffic state of mind I can’t seem to find a friendly distraction to ease the pain of the twisting kaleidoscope known as my heart.
Think back…. Can you remember houses made of cardboard boxes Out of which came your parents’ new furniture from ikea Do you remember changing your names
The trees, hid her from everyone around The water, flowed beneath her tiny feet For nothing more beautiful could astound Like the pleasant river beyond the street,
I can’t help but feel this sense of regret In every blink, in every breath. I forced myself ahead a step; Forgot what it was that I should have kept. Curiosity breached as temptation crept
Living two life's, I flicker between the two, Pretending the corrupt is nonexistent. I put on my mask, Hiding my imperfections, And shunting the cruel reality into a dream.
I turn my head towards my open window and I listen Listen to the familiar sounds of cars rushing past Listen as the cool night air weaves through the trees’ leaves, making them rustle. Then I start to remember.
My father had once told me you'll never know just what you'll be even with the end in sight just before the end of night dont jump too soon, because you'll fall just hang on tight, fight through it all
a kid is not a dictionary full of baloney like idiosyncrasy or etymology a kid is not a robot oblivious monotone emotionless automatic repetitive
They took it You spent years Pouring your heart Soul and sweat Into the wood and nails The blisters and measured Imperfections Until one day Your beautiful masterpiece Was complete
It is loud. I find it hard to move and sometimes it's hard to breathe. Claustrophobia, and a fear of the unknown. I'm just ten feet from the target now, and he stops me.
Isn't it peculiar how scents carry the memories of our pasts? Vanilla reminds me of the hot humid nights that I spent with the biggest family I had known.  
Her disco ball shoes sparkle and glow like the dance floor on prom night, Innocent until further notice. She dances careless with dark brown ringlets bouncing across the nape of her neck,
Her disco ball shoes sparkle and glow like the dance floor on prom night, Innocent until further notice. She dances careless with dark brown ringlets bouncing across the nape of her neck,
Through my eyes Your see the fear and pain. A very negative pain that could hurt for life, With nothing more than hate for you.
I can't remove the sap, with spots of dust and needles clinging to my love and life lines.
Neon lights at dusk. Spinning silhouettes in the dirt, a cigarette butt on rusted paint. The tribal fringe and fireworks. The smells of hay and grease.
Walking down the street, the scent Hit me, crawling its way up my nose, Triggering the memories of her, and The smell of the warm cake, followed By the longing beep from the oven.
Remember the good old days when rent was an ambiguous term, and the success of the day was measured in the amount of cookies you could sneak out of the cookie jar.
Flashback to the year 1995, the year I was brought into this world. I grew up believing in love.
What has become of you? Remember our late night talking? You use to be my Teddy, I use to be your Light. We'd spend endless night together, 2 insomniacs, 2 different reasons why.
Curiousity Reins, Adventure, My best friend forever Dare I explore the basement?
Biting my lip in anticipation Sweat forming at my temple I don’t know if I can hold on much longer So I let go My feet crunch in the woodchips I run like a cheetah I leap and hit the swing
when asked about childhood, i would probably say the adventures i had when i was six and seven on calm summer days like helping him sneak in
A dream, A desire, Is a prayer, Prayer to give Give to others, from a person to bring sanguine thoughts, into a beast, What flawless man, can repent all of our sins like a snap
My fist was closed. My breathing, hard. The frown line was there, sitting on my forehead, as I failed miserably, trying to hold onto something, that was just like thin air.
When I was young enough for my dreams to touch the sky, I had a rocking horse that, for Mamma, was just about knee-high; And every day after I finished my breakfast of cereal and milk,
I want only to touch upon what I'm missing, to poke a pin through my darkness, so I can see fiery reds, and envious greens, and pastel periwinkles, and the gleaming sun.
Jumping into the leaves with you, Brings me back to times of glory, Back when I ruled a kingdom of slides and swing sets, Back when I crossed continents in a single hour,
I like radio static and sleeping by rivers in a tent, with wood smoke as my blanket and campfire glow as my pillow.
Sometimes I feel like I just need to say things: like yellow is my favorite color. I prefer cloudy days over sunny days. When I was young I mixed milk and maple syrup and drank from colored cups like shots
I watched her struggle writing her name always trying to perfect m But she scribbles it with four humps I told her “ma’ it is two like a camel” but she gave up
Yes
(poems go here) I ate PB&J and cookies and milk and candy on Halloween and hamburgers and hot dogs and not vegetables and cupcakes at Hartney’s party and went to the beach and built sandcastles and moats and walls and holes and skipped rocks a
Girls grow up thinking life will be perfect, Walt Disney showed little girls what they should expect. From Prince Charmings, to fairies, flying, and love, He never showed them what to do when push comes to shove.
I don't care you're not the same as me You don't care I'm not the same as you Why is that so hard for them to see? They always talk but never do
Running, my heart and step pounding as one An echo sounding solely in my chest I look ahead to see us light up our city swept surroundings Shining like stars, we are grounded, but free as feathered teams
Half asleep, yet full of laughter Knowing not what we are after The fill and feel of the crisp morning air We steal our joy spent with such little care Our dreams making up our new rallied world
I never thought of meeting with my childhood crush again Never expected it to happen this way. I looked for him He looked for me and at the end we found each other Yes, it may have been awkward at first
You call me son. I call you by name. The things you have done You should be ashamed. You say you are a better man, You want me to see. My eyes are open To the man who stands before me.
The imagery echoes in brain, Never stopping and no gain. Same thing over and over, But no matter what there is no closure.
Childhood. The daring, the bold, the careless. The excited, the happy, the shameless. The loving, the laughing, the faithfulness. Childhood ends, but life is timeless.
The walls pink like roses painted with a garden full of daisies and tulips The carpet soft as cotton Barbie dolls and bouncy balls. The closet, huge as a house, stuffed with toys that her Mom said to put away
I am from pool parties and barbecues Summer nights skipping rocks at the river. I am from fireworks and sparklers, Scrapes knees and bug bites. I am from sunshine and smiles, Ice cream and water fights.
You spent your early days in silence. watching from the sidelines but never really participating. they threw those cruel words at you through whispers behind your back. with your small ears you caught them
I am the quad core intel i7 chip in the beautiful aluminum unibody MacBook Pro. I am the retina display in the iPhone 5. I am the 4g LTE in the all new iPad. I am the 32 gb of storage in an iPod touch.
Such little hands With little fingers Such small feet With little toes Sandy loves to play outside Sandy loves to sing as loud as she can Sandy loves to love things She loves pink and dresses
Driving’ in his car, its amazing how the wind flows through the room. I couldn’t stop getting butterflies touching him. Why couldn’t it last for so long? I couldn’t help but to say goodbye.
(poems go here) CHANGE
It little profits me that the road ahead is uncertain, A challenge is a thing often accepted, yet seldom understood, For who I am now, and who I will be Decided with each moment, each struggle, success
There once was a young girl, who wanted to escape. She would close her eyes, and imagine a place;
Sometimes I wonder What happened On June nineteeth, 'ninety-five - The day before my birth. Before I opened my eyes Before I took my first breath of fresh air Before I touched the world with tiny fingers
So many days in that black swivel chair Clicking on clues, who needs fresh air? Staring at the screen with its curve like the earth You’d think I’d been doing this from at least birth
I am not afraid of the crossroads anymore, I’m not afraid of the cliff, I’m not letting fear run my life, Because I am not living based on what ifs. Change has become something I have t o accept
Breathe, little one, breathe.
If it was up to humanity we'd be the same person we were born as Young innocent creatures that only know love But the world around us the world that bleeds itself into our minds Causes an aneurysm of change
You feel alone don't you? Your heart is aching with an unbearable pain. He hurt you. And he was the one you trusted most. He broke that and you are mad and upset.
Remember when you knew me by the twinkle in my eye, Remember how you looked at me In early morning hello and late at night good-bye
A yell, a hit, a tear. Sounds echo in my thoughts Why am I ignorant? Why do I lie? I dream; I don’t remember Well it's nothing new, Nothing to shake the rattles in the mind
Remember the light remember the world? Remember the precious little girl? Do you remember the peace we had? Do you remember when we wearn't sad? Do you remember the beautiful blue skys?
I am young. Blonde hair moves past my eyes, As I play in the dirt. My irises are big and innocent.
Addicted to a mother who, in her eyes never loved her, created mental disintegration to a psyche so fragile Failing to inherit qualities of forget, forgiveness begun to take shape as enabling.
Subscribe to childhood