These Acrostic Childhood poems are examples of Acrostic poems about Childhood. These are the best examples of Acrostic Childhood poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
L-iving in a world of vast
souls formed from
another voided world,
E-ntering thru portals
from their world to earth.
O-ozing spetacular smell
and wail when the chips
N-urtured from cradle to
entity with a new world
O-rganizes oneself for the
task ahead,passing thru
hurdles of life unabased
R-eaps the fruit of labor
with joy or heavy heart.
A-ge sets in,mission
accomplished or not will
dawn on the entity.
I-n retrospect,he thinks
about his childhood and
how life was to him.
L-iving in confidence or
shame,he bows his head
in victory or defeat.
O-nly the taste of time
will tell the durability of
V-oid of preference the
aim result bears the
foundation for his lineage.
E-njoyment or lack lies
with the works of the
man,for there is no food
for the slothful.
Y-oung ones,a stitch in
time saves nine,make
haste while the sun
O-iling your lamb always
like the ten virgins is the
key to success.
U-rging you to shun peer
pressure and focus on
the course marked out
for you by fate,so a
fulfilled life you shall live.
An acrostic for you
I s a child to be heard?
N o one answers, as usual. The silence is slowly killing me.
S orrow, misunderstanding and these mourning memories,
I s this the way it is supposed to be? Since that fateful day, I have been a
G irl, lost in a whirl of tragic past, calamitous present and the fear of having no future,
N ever have I known what "family", "friends" or "fiends" mean, for
I have never made or heard of any.
F or I am thirteen, just as inconsequential as a dwarf planet, amongst boundless galaxies.
I live in misery, why won't anyone listen to me? I may be young, but I
C an converse, listen and see, and I
A m as normal as you are. So why
N ot give me a chance to prove myself?
C an you ever give me a listening
E ar? Is a child to be heard?
Fleeting And With Vague Reference To Memory, Her Vision
Ruptures and Blurs: All The Lines Seamlessly Creasing
Onto One And Other. The Air Tastes So Much Sweeter When
Machines Pump the Air In And Out For You.
- Don't Even Have To Remember To Breathe -
Tedium Enslaves The Mindset, and Causes The Irrational To
Hemorrhage Fourth, Displacing Any Emotional Grounding, And
Eradicating Any Sense of a Self Obtained Freedom
- Sleep My Sweet... Sleep -
Twisted Metal Splayed Across The Concrete, The Haunting
Horrific Sound of Sparks Generated By The Rapid Deceleration.
Only The Front Seats Remained Intact As The Frames Crumpled
Under The Tremendous Pressure. The Dread Comes Before The
Gripping Fear, The Acknowledgement of Impact Forces The
Hands To Curl Up Into Fists and Squeezes The Sweat from
Tightening Palms. Time Rushes To a Stop, and The High Pitched
Screams, Become Disturbingly Deep Rumbles.
- It Hit The Back Harder -
Onset Bewilderment as a Result of the Fear. She Moves Her Hand
From The Bed, and Touches The Skin On Her Dads Wrist.
- He Stokes Her Hand Gently With His Thumb -
"Abigail" He Whispers, His Cheeks Stained With The Inevitability.
- His Hope For Her Had Withered -
Destiny is The Harshest Mediator of Time and Regret,
Yet It Presented Her With No Answers. She Struggles
Intricately For The Reasoning of The Event,
Never Fully Understanding Where She Was
Going, And Why She Was Going Alone.
- Her Words Stifled By Mucus -
Caressing Her Head and Stroking Her Hair,
He Let The Warm Liquid Stream Down His Face.
It Made Snail Silver Lines When Reflected
Light Shimmered Through It. He Held Tight,
Delicately Supporting Her Neck.
- And Laying Her Down -
- He Kisses Her Forehead -
- "Goodbye My Sweet" -
Emotional scars that never heal
Manipulated into thinking I know not right from wrong
Overpowered by his stature; my weakness makes him strong
Loathing at the thought that the time has come to go to bed
Escaping all the nightmares; forcing them to the back of my head
Sexually deviant and wicked; he’s completely out of control
Twisted are his thoughts, as he finally takes my soul
Evil vicious cycle; spinning round and round and round
Devastation lasting a life-time; still waiting to be found
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
He was my very first daydream
I thought about him all the time
Something about him made me beam
Seeing his face was so sublime
Making good grades in class was a breeze
It was his smile that was my motivation
Liking him came with such ease
Every thought of touching him came with hesitation
All I had was the way he looked at me
Waiting for his glances became my prize
A chance encounter filled me with glee
I wanted so much to feel the warmth of his eyes
Thinking of him is a great memory
Smiles like his have become few and far between
Halloween: Safety First Then Fun!!!
By the Poets Listed After the Poem
Happy day getting candy treats while dressed like spooks and goblins.
Angels, genies, princesses, too, put “loot” in their bags and tins.
Look both ways when you cross the street. Always stay close to your friends.
Lighted homes. Festive decorations. Porches. Pumpkins. Invite!
Oh, be leery of the dark, where ghosts and spooks stay out of site.
Wear bright costumes that reflect at night! Not lose or tight. Just right!
Every child must be aware that some goblins inhabit homes.
Each year we hear of razor blades placed in a child’s candied cones.
Never!!! Ever!!! Eat your treats 'til Mom says, “OK, little gnomes.”
Stay safe! Look around! While you walk, beware of witches and bats.
Always, ghosts and goblins watch. Looking out for sweet treats you drop.
Fear? If they happen to appear parents, quickly call the cops!
Enjoy laughter, hot chocolate, and other treats with your friends.
Take care not to play tricks that could hurt others or cause offense.
Youngsters, polite and respectful, great delight they do dispense.
Fun you will have! Enjoyment too. Be sure that you are careful!
In all situations, “Trick-or-Treaters” beware! Need HELP? Shout!!!
Remember say, “Thank you” for treats when you’re out and about.
Stay clear of Spooky Soupers as they write with their crazy pens.
To write in verse, some witches curse. And drive sanity ‘round bends.
The madness, “Dearie,” is very clear; they strive to make amends.
Hooting owls and wild black cats wildly eat from your mum's pumpkin
Eerily, creaky zombies leave their tombs and walk down your streets.
Night, bubbling soups, you must beware, might be made of your own feet--
Frantic frenzies and fabulous fun begins just before dark.
Under that moonlit chilling night, “Trick- or-Treaters,” find their mark.
Nearby neighbors anticipate. Waiting with treats is a lark!
Contributing Poets in Alphabetical Order: Charmaine Chircop, Carolyn Devonshire , James
Frazer, Rhoda Galgiani, Sean Kelly, Karen O'Leary, Patricia Prescott, Dane SmithJohnsen
A is for apathy, “You all know you are!”
B is for itching, “Why can’t I have a car?”
U is for the umbilical cord. You never cut from Ma.
N is for neutral, “Why should you take a stand?”
D is for dependent, “Hey, one always needs a hand!”
A is for angry, “Well, why the hell shouldn’t I be?”
N is for nostalgia, ‘cause in the past we’re free.
C is for the ocks ;) who run the whole damn show!.
E is for euthanasia, “When your old just GO!”
And all that spells abundance, in case you could not tell?
Or went to school in Texas and never learned to spell.
Self-Esteem destroyed; lost and never found
Engaged in unwanted advances; horror all around
X-Rated is the actions; the pain is something unable to forget
United are the demons, which created the mood to set
Audacity running through his veins; unable to see the fright
Losing all my dignity; fighting with all my might
Lusting for a purpose; one of the ultimate sins
Yearning for gratification; not thinking about the child within
Mortified beyond repair; a terrified child now resides
Open to the vulnerability; a perfect secret now to hide
Losing this perverted battle; feeling mute and all alone
Emptiness has now replaced, a subtle joyful tone
Silence I have learned; haunting memories hiding within
Trust I give to no one; for all of life is one big sin
Exiled from a childhood, that helped make me who I am today
Disgraced by the memories as I watched my childhood fade away
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
Mothers are truly God’s gift to the world and really for us
Oh, they will put things out, even a fuss with a simple touch
The essence of their being prevents us from being in a rush
Hear their words of wisdom and one will learn very much
Even as drivers they shift gears without scraping the clutch
Resting a child’s head, they simmer a cry with such a hush
Saving grace, loving us dearly like a hand with a royal flush