Childhood Poems | Examples of Childhood Poetry

The pavement claims ice cream from little sticky fingers. Cries echo through the air, tugging at the heartstrings of first-time parents. Turned-out pockets disarmed, everyone walks away with a smile~some wide, some forced, and some bewildered....

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noon’s furnace: asphalt shimmers; air—thick, slow— cracks open. cicadas drill through stagnant gold. a sprinkler’s hiccup-hiss: the pavement’s glow un/curls in steam. the hydrant’s shout: uncontrolled. children shriek!—a liquid burst of now, popsicle rivers bleed; knuckles—sticky, green— cling to handlebars. shadows stretch: thin, lean across chain-link. each blade of grass—laid down— bakes. but dusk? a match-strike: fireflies!— the yard exhales jasmine; stars prick the...

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was it really that big of a deal if we were both just kids our minds snapped shut like lids brainwashed by whats bad and good too scared to come out with the truth nothing ever came smooth these thoughts these anxieties they only get worse i needed someone to soothe me im just a little girl please stop touching me like that i dont like it im...

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Alcohol to numb the pains. Cigarettes to taste something other than hate. Sex to escape the constant loud voices in my head. Makeup to hide the broken girl inside. So put together, so stylish, so grown up and mature. Little did they know that girl was always manic, depressed, and anxious....

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Do you remember how it felt? Do you know what it feels like to feel worthless, not enough, to question love? Do you remember not knowing how love was supposed to look because what you thought was love was completely shattered. No more two in one bed, no more two in one place. No more...

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Flash backs, hitting like a bucket of ice water in a steaming shower. Never did I think they could come without me losing my breath or letting tears slip. They hit like a blackout right on a normal day, when you think they finally have gone away it sneaks up on you like you are...

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I loved my childhood summers In the mountains, where we stayed In a small, one-bedroom bungalow Where memories were made. We didn’t mind the lack of space; Outside were fields of grass With lots of friends to hang with - Oh, how quickly time did pass! In day camp we had arts and crafts; We swam and ran around And played on teams in...

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Things doesn’t go the way we want, They go the way we do for it. Results I got harsh, which I can’t, Future happens according to one’s did. Was a larva tried hard and hard to rest, But am a butterfly which could not fly. Understood the assignment after just, The results came out, can’t time just rewind. ...

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I am playing with mommy’s make up While she’s tired and putting her feet up I’m supposed to be having rest too But face painting’s a fun thing to do. Mommy placed the curlers in my hair She tells me it gives me added flair So I’m painting my face, as mom does Hoping it makes her happy heart buzz. My hair will...

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The home where Chella grew up, in the ghetto of Liberty City Florida, had beige carpets so old that pieces of the tuft and twirl would come out of the backing under-foot. The apartment window shades were white floral plastic rectangles cut from an old shower curtain. She shared a bedroom with two younger siblings and...

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Army BRAT’S Always ‘Wanna’ Fly High The tradition necessitates that as a child born unto military parents Called by the beloved acronym Born Raised and Trained (BRAT’S) Be always on the spotlight as they augment and compliment The guys in uniform ever shifting from one place to another Military BRAT’S never quite settle born and raised as sojourners Born of a...

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I was born in absence— not just of a father, but of the myth of one. Raised by silence, I searched for manhood in shadows and wounds. My name is Oedipus rewritten— not in fate, but in affection never given. My sister wears men like seasons, because no one taught her what protection felt like. A home is soul-architecture: a mother to nurture, a father to protect. Remove one— the child...

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Comeback-Shirley, starting early, I'm the sparkle that teases night. Worship, the Madonna baby! Comeback-Shirley Foam hair curlers set loose coils tight. Strawberry cheeks, fans wish to see. Appearances, tilt the glass right. Put your sugar bowl out, missy. The world shall call you its sunlight. Stolen cradle, aren't you in glee? Comeback-Shirley...

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I never buried certain names, They lingered like a scent in air. I whispered them through window panes And found them waiting everywhere. I never buried childhood roads— The ones I walked with bleeding knees. They live inside the softest odes And bloom like ghosts among the trees. I never buried what she said The night the silence broke our bed. Her voice still echoes...

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