Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

School Life Poems | Life Poems About School

These School Life poems are examples of Life poems about School. These are the best examples of School Life poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Rhyme | |

Letting Go

Their lives begin, that special day
Your hardest job, is on the way.
Walking and pacing, all night long
Knowing that one day, they’ll be strong.

Watching them crawl, then walk and run
Treasure each moment, share their fun.
They grow so fast, enjoy each day
For sometime soon, they’ll move away.

Years of school, sometimes they will drag
We’re filled with pride, we parents brag.
Teaching our kids, always be kind
Lasting friendships, many will find.

Do as I say, not as I do
We all have said, our parents too.
The truth comes out, don’t cheat or lie
Don’t try and skimp, to just get by.

Take the right path, we try to guide
Sometimes they don’t, we let it slide.
Knowing they must, find their own way
Life is tough, on track they must stay.

Bumps in the road, many will hit
We as parents, just have to sit.
Learn from mistakes, it takes its’ toll
Their independence, that’s our goal.

The hardest part, is yet to come
When high school years, are said and done.
We’ve done our jobs, as best we could
We must let go, or so we should.

Give them their wings, and let them fly
As we sit back, and often cry.
Turning the page, is hard to do
Wondering if, they listened to you.

Reach for the stars, follow your dreams
It takes time, forever it seems.
Your heart will break, can’t let it show
It’s so difficult, letting go.


Details | Free verse | |

She Hulk

When I was a child I only ever wanted to be strong.
I wanted to be able to compete with the boys
and when I foot raced them at recess I won every time.
They called me ‘She Hulk’ because of my muscular frame
and from the way I only ever wore soccer t-shirts and sweat pants.
After that nickname was implanted into my brain like a growing weed,
I’ve only ever wanted to be feminine.
I started wearing skirts and dresses 
and in middle school they shrieked at the site of my makeup and done up hair.
But that weed inside of my mind only grew, and grew, and grew
until I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part anorexic and two parts lonely,
because I thought that the definition of feminine began with the word frail.
No one ever realizes how greatly words affect us,
how a simple nickname can turn a pretty girl into a skeleton.
I stood at five foot two weighing seventy nine pounds,
so cold and frozen,
yet I still considered myself a ‘She Hulk.’
You could see my ribcage through my t-shirt
and my spinal cord protruded loudly through my weathered skin,
as if somehow my bones were dirty knives
just trying to cut through the flesh of judgment.
As I grew older I became the girl that was never enough.
Not good enough to speak poetry.
Not good enough to lay paint on a canvas.
Not good enough.
Not tall enough.
Not big enough boobs for them.
Not primped to perfection.
Not undeniably straight.
Not smart enough.
Not dumb enough.
Not ditsy enough.
Not cool enough or fun enough.
And I began to believe, too, that I wasn’t enough.
I never told my mother that I had been in madly in love with a girl.
I never told anyone about the night we first kissed 
because I was too vulnerable for the judgment.
And parents always justify saying that ‘kids will be kids’
But when we are kids our brains are still growing
and the smallest of seeds that get planted will one day bloom
into one giant regret,
will one day affect the choices that we make,
will one day influence us about the clothes that we wear,
will one day shape us into the person who we thought we would never be.
I only ever wanted to be strong,
and as a child I thought strength was only about being able
to lift a bar stool above your head.
I thought that strength was only about being able
to beat the boys in bare foot running races.
I was told that strength was something only
a man could have.
But as I’ve grown older I’ve realized that strength
isn’t about muscle at all,
but it’s about weakness,
and the ability to overcome the social anxiousness.
It’s about carrying around a lifetime of baggage
on your broken back
because the ones that kicked you when you were down
are going to be the ones that were  ultimately wrong.
I thought that the definition of woman 
began with the word disappointment.
And I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part freedom
and two parts Sailor Jerry
because every girl needs a stiff drink once and awhile.
We are not disappointments.
We will never be the ones who gave up on hope.
We will never be the ones who gave up on each other,
or god,
or our mothers.
We will always be enough;
enough for the ones who shunned us 
enough for the ones that cursed us
enough for the ones the hurt us
and destroyed us
and beat us when we were covered in bruises.
But you see, bruises fade
and the scars of our flesh are only stories
things we have overcame
and there are things out there that we will overcome.
When I was a child, I only ever wanted to be strong.
I hid my vulnerability.
I hid the parts of me that were true.
I never told my mother about my girlfriend
because I was afraid she wouldn’t understand,
kind of like all those people who never understood 
just how much words effect us. 
I can’t say that I can beat the boys at foot races anymore,
because, well, I smoke cigarettes now.
And I can’t say that the nickname of my childhood didn’t affect me.
But I take that name now and embrace it.
Because I am strong.
I am the ‘she hulk’.
I am a mixed drink cocktail
with three parts greatful.


Details | Free verse | |

LOVE at FIRST SIGHT

Love was in the air when he laid eyes on her.
Childhood; elementary and even high school with her.
Walking towards her, he greeted her.
Anxiety spiraled as he hugged her.
Conversation grew deeper as he sat with her.
Wanting to get closer because he was falling for her.

Another woman called pausing the time he was having with her.
Knowing he had to answer; he stepped away and spoke to her.
She stated that something wasn't quite right with her.
She said that her stomach had been bothering her.
Now he's thinking back if he came inside her.
Thinking if she lied to him about her tubes being tied within her.

Does he blame himself for listening to her?
Knowing right from wrong and yet he can't blame her.
Does he blame the devil for allowing him to be intimate with her?
Is he not a human that makes mistakes just like her?
Begging God to make a way for him and her.
Asking God to forgive him for committing the sin with her.

God said, "relax my son, you were only dreaming of her."


Details | Rhyme | |

Scars Left Behind

Remembering the days of yesteryear
when family ties were held most dear,
gas lamps flickered in the back street
while most of us danced a different beat.
Tragic alleyways of smog and smut
“Live over the brush”* branded a slut,
silhouettes in fringe the darkest night
gullible back shift broke the morning light.
Adventurous nights at “Townhead Mill”
eight pints of beer the back porch thrill,
when no meant yes in rapturous skill
to fumigated music from “Nashville.”
Obnoxious libertine this bread man
bay curtain drawn delivery van,
the situation conspired indiscretion
clinical the world’s oldest profession.
Sporting gentlemen in summer bliss
caught first ball costly night on the piss,
pavilion home to moorside drover
many a chaste maiden bowled over.
Partial pilgrimage down “Bolton Road”
black and amber heroes round ball code,
liniment buoyant throughout the room
manly skills embroider the village groom.
Cardinal days steeped in “Rock ‘n’ Roll”
sire in fear of them out of control,
a colossal wedge between cultures
in shadows of decency vile vultures.
Repetitious days of school yard might
the bullies reduced one’s life to plight,
parents queried yet misunderstood
reasons for mayhem in the neighbourhood.
Lad and lasses lost in “Hide and seek”
games of “Stroke a back” every week,
by the old school grounds we all did laik**
now the street is naked for heaven sake.
Why on earth would a mind keep drifting back
this poetry constantly placing me on track,
when life was a role without fame or stars
only toil and trepidation and these scars?

© Harry J Horsman 2013   

*Living in sin
** Play


Details | Acrostic | |

Every Day

Slow is the sun knowing that I am already awake...
Unwilling are these eyes to search that which has already been seen
Now, time waits upon my hands to make something unknown
Does anyone know how long it's been?
All my life has turn a shame
Years are passing without a gain...

Moments becomes hours for me, when I see the others smile in minutes
Old is my mouth; for not having strength for such movements 
Now, time waits upon my hands to make something unknown
Does anyone know how long it's been?
All my life has turn a shame
Years are passing without a gain...

This mind, beats so much more than this heart
Unwilling are these eyes to search that which has already been seen
Easy is the wind to those that welcome its flirty touch
Soft are the sounds of the leafs being crushed
Dazing is the street light, when watched throughout the night
Animals pass and smell my sent; small acquaintances if you might
Yonder noises: added ingredients, to help imagination take a flight

Watching children play
Eying women walk
Dim; the lights will say
Nothing seems to stop
Everyone's alive
Sadly, so am I
Death's a friend to each one of us
All of us will cry
Yelling out: Come friend, tears will not shed mine

This mind, beats so much more than this heart
How heavy is the rain on a wet coat longed?
Undisturbed is the playing of my high school song
Rusty is my skin, but I not worry for it to be touched
Sounds of other voices keep me hushed
Dealing with myself so long
Aging is my only grown
Yield please earth, been so still, I feel you spin

Friday games I never win
Reaching out to grab myself
Inside me, there is no help
Does anyone know how long it's been?
All my life has turn a shame
Years are passing without a gain...

Slow is the sun knowing that I am already awake
Awake to feel the air up above me
Tumbling down in quakes
Until I cry: NO MORE SHALL I TAKE
Riding upon hopelessness
Dying upon wait
Alone with my heart inside
Yearning for her to stay...


Details | Lyric | |

Pins and Needles

Another song written in middle school - edited of course. ;)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Verse 1] I'm trapped within these walls Never to leave at all I am the prisoner inside my own home My spirit is broken I do not believe I'm locked in this chamber which I cannot leave [Chorus] The needles that break the skin The anger that runs within I’m giving it all away Just to stay alive The needles that pierce my veins It will never be the same We’re on pins and needles now It’s how we survive [Verse 2] They say he’ll find me soon Got to get out of this room The blood will spill and he’ll take what he wants to I’ll never let him through GET OUT OF MY DREAM He whispers in darkness, “I’m not who I seem…” [Chorus] [Verse 3] The four walls around me They start to close in I know I’m too late now I know I can’t win So just tell me I’m crazy It’s all in my head You’re not the killer And I am not dead [Chorus] [Breakthrough] Don’t tell me it’s impossible To start it all over again Infection sinks through your pale skin You’ll curse the day that I’m dead [Chorus]


Details | Lyric | |

Rhyme XOX

I just want my summertime
To be at a stand still.
Sometimes, when women cross my mind,
I'm not sure just what to feel.

I'd like to call her friend,
And I want us to mean something.
I can find several, yet in the end,
It seems like all I have is nothing.

So where is the evidence
That says I should move forward?
Show me a sign that's heaven sent;
A point I should move toward.



©2013 Honestly JT


Details | Rhyme | |

My Poetry Begining PoetrySoup

It was the last day of school twenty some years ago
The teacher asked us to write a poem, in any form that we may know.
Never doing this before, I let the words flow, just letting it all hang out
After I handed it in, the teacher was really impressed without a doubt
She showed it to some other teachers saying,"Hey look at what Dan has wrote"
None of them could believe I wrote all those silly words down in a little note.

Seven years after school, I wrote my prewife a little poem
She said awww how sweet, and into a junk drawer it was thrown 
Five years after that, I wrote a poem in a homemade Valentines card
She looked at it and asked "was buying a real card just to hard"?
Another five years later, sitting by myself and drinking alone
I entered a poetry contest, because I felt my thoughts needed to be known

They sent me a letter back saying they wanted to put my poem in a book!
I right away sent the letter back saying ok, without even taking a second look
That's when it all began, I started writing poetry it seemed like everywhere 
Reading it to my friends and they would listen with a unappreciative stare
Then one day I came across this site, kind of interesting called Poetry Soup
I couldn't believe all the heartfelt kindness, they made me feel I was part of the troop


Dan Kearley:12-6-11


Details | Rhyme | |

Death - Reborn - Balassi Stanza

As I take my last breath
The pathway to my death
Is the Arc of a Rainbow

In Darkness, unforeseen 
With a Soul, so unclean
As a Raven’s or a Crow

I can feel this new Life
Sounds of bagpipes and fife
An Eternity, to Grow 

Inspired by Dr. Ram Mehta’s Contest
              “ Balassi Stanza “

Author’s Note : Dr. Ram has Taught me more English
Than my Jr. & Sr. High School Teachers : Combined


Details | Free verse | |

Bully

you pick on the innocent
pray on the weak
leave the unwanted in your dust
harming all in your path

they go home
bruised and beaten
filled with tears
a lump in their throats

still breathing
still a love in their hearts 
yet they have more strength
than you ever will 




Details | Rhyme | |

Fifty-two Blue Beads

I walked in the local Relay for Life
In support of the Cancer Foundation
I have lost too many people that I love
To this horrible abomination

For each lap around the High School track
You received a white bead to put on a string
Every fifth lap resulted in a bead of blue
One full mile completed was its meaning

I started at 6:00 pm that night
After resting throughout the day
I was determined to walk 18 hours straight
As my contribution to help keep cancer at bay

My pledges totaled one hundred dollars a mile
Every blue bead helped me keep count
I wanted to collect all that I could
To bring in the top amount

Most teams consisted of many walkers
Who walked in shifts throughout the night
But my team was just a team of one
Like on a Spirit of St. Louis flight

At 6:15 I received my first blue bead
A four miles an hour pace
If I could keep this up throughout the event
I would surely win first place
(Not that that really mattered)

At 10:00 I had fifteen blue beads
And was already getting tired and sore
But I blocked all that right out of my mind
For the miles I had left were many more

The crowds on the track started thinning out
As the night grew dark and longer
At 3:00 am I got a second (or third) wind
And somehow was walking stronger

By 6:00 am I was practically walking in my sleep
My blisters were starting to bleed
By now I had a second string
To hold all the white and blue beads

At 11:00 am they announced, “One more hour to go”
Fresh new faces started to arrive
I kept plopping one foot in front of the other
Although I had a much shorter stride

When they rang the bell announcing the Relay was over
I finally sat down to count my blue beads
Fifty-two blue beads meant fifty-two miles
And five thousand, two hundred dollars for this need

They packed up the stages and removed all the trash
While in my warm sleeping bag I slept
Everyone was gone when I woke up again
But the promise to my loved ones I had kept


Details | Verse | |

The Canvas

This poem is a farewell piece of advice to a group of students I have taught over the last four years. I do 
hope they find the metaphor meaningful and believe that they are the "architects of their own future."

Spread before you is a canvas of hope and opportunity Waiting to be painted with strokes of what you are and can be Waiting to be filled with colours that define you and the life you live Waiting to be stamped with the personality that only you can give To the portrait of your life, by itself a work of art A work which, on this day, with vigour you will start Spread before you is a canvas of vision and desire Waiting to be sketched with shades of passion and fire Waiting to be decorated with a story and theme Waiting to be etched with ambition that is now just a dream Of a picture whose tone, texture and style Would have made this work worth all the while Spread before you is a canvas, empty, yet full of space Waiting to be stroked with your wit, charm and grace Waiting to be brushed with strokes daring, vivid and bold Waiting to be painted with a story that can be told Of a life whose essence is one of sublime beauty Of a person who lived his life and did his duty Of a person who lived life the way it should be Of a complete canvas that will reflect many a memory.


Details | Lyric | |

Normal To Me

This isn't just a poem This isn't just another emotion This is me, these are my thoughts The Imagery is my sight, And The Allegories are my Life I'm lonely, There is just me But there's so many people around but no one can hear my loudest screams Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me I'm torn, I'm Cut Part of my heart stabbed, and then taken from me The Search for my innocence, Is like a moa hunt Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me Laughing and Jokes all directed towards me Just to Hurt me Cover all of the Halls "Fag, Emo, Queer" Words I too often know Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me Curling her hair putting on her makeup "You're worthless and nothing to Me" Says the so-called all-loving-one As she screams: "Why am I not Pretty" Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me This is not just a poem not just some words my pen cries with each words But this is Just a Glimpse Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me


Details | Narrative | |

1-15-10 look into my eyes

i caught your eyes on me. dont bother to look away. ive already noticed. i wish i was 
brave enough to stare back. it doesnt bother me, just makes me curious. what are you 
thinking? or are you just observing? try to figure me out. but you wont. because youve 
only met the imposter. you havent stopped to look into my eyes.


Details | Free verse | |

Pieces of Eternity (Seasons Finale)

Maybe it’s unacceptable 
Live a life capable of a true fable 
True friends never end 
But take you back to where it all began 
But hey misery gave us something to believe in 
Stress became a greater award as we achieved sin 
What could I say? Our savior died on a cross tough as pig skin 
Never once cried over the loss 
Forbidden fruit, Eden garden 
Excuse me, my lord, I beg your pardon 
And so what if these medics carry life in a carton 
But I ain’t trippin 
Simply because this is me until my dying day 
Please stop crying, you know I can’t stay 
I’m going to be the same until my dying day 
Over in that casket is where I’m trying to lay 
That’s right until my dying day 
True lost souls from the dark side 
Forever, we as mortals ride 
Peace is nothing, I fend for quiet time 
Rebels in riot lines 
Previous high school graduates 
Symbols of an adjective running toward fate 
True personality suffer the privilege of inmates 
How could you hesitate to ask 
There’s no stranger under this mask 
Lonely and unholy, who’s there to console me? 
I want to get away, forever restless 
You can see my similarities with the ocean 
I’m stress less 
Because this is me until my dying day 
Please stop crying, you know I can’t stay 
I’m going to be the same until my dying day 
Over in that casket is where I’m trying to lay 
My son, my friend 
We are but pieces of eternity 
Mesh on, mesh off 
Even at our best times we’re soft 
Who’s to say I’d regret my decision 
To lead a sinners life without God’s supervision 
On a one man mission 
And I know I don’t come around much 
Got my palms in reality 
Searching for something softer to touch 
Whisper in my ear, death makes me blush 
And Hell only flatters me 
One and one, through matter the winds scatter me 
I ain’t trippin, baby girl get off your knees 
You’re in the arms of a future me 
And I can’t see heaven from a distance 
Fire me over clouds like a piston 
Marching through blood 
But it’s all mud and water to Darkhouse 
Stand still let me mark my spouse 
Live my life as an outcast 
How could you even picture me at my last? 
Dear lord show some mercy on my followers 
Bless those that swallow dust to follow us 
No need to borrow sympathy 
Unforgiving sorrow made my enemies envy me 


Details | Couplet | |

Divisions Of A Philosophical Mind

Infant mind preferred scientist the best Whose brain worked off beat beneath a bird’s nest. Alas! Time told that I wasn’t at all gifted by god, So it was inconceivable to befriend sin, log and mod! Then was the school life, amazed with pilots and aero science, Flying free with strong wings was definitely nice! Someone told that people with hi-eyepower were not allowed The excuse was enough to drop the dream of being pilot-renowned. So I participated in school dramas with a secret fervor of acting, I was tired of seeing more and more talent; and decided of quitting. Music then became a part of my life; I started listening to all kinds I failed a school audition, so further working on it would be a sacrifice. So I began to grow tired of this endless game; grew tired of being tired And went on and on, writing this poem without fear of being fired! Because I had learnt my lesson too early, yet failed to see I had not There would certainly be better; hope was still to be the best shot.


Details | Free verse | |

High School Sharks

I can already hear the whispers
Before I open the door
Walking down the corridor
Fluorescent lights beam down
Illuminating, my faults
                                                    “Look at her, she think she’s bad, doesn’t she?”

High heels clicking on linoleum tiles
Hips waving regardless of assaults 
Lips uncurled into a blank expression
"How the hell am i going to get through this hall
without slappingone of them?"
Head up, eyes open but unseeing the ugliness of it all
It happens everyday

“I can’t believe all those guys like her, what the hell do  they see in her?”
			“She’s just another whore”
		      “I heard she’s not as smart as they say she is”
“I knowww, she probably slept with the teacher to get into the A.P classes”
     “Yeah, that’s the only way, there’s not possibility of her having a brain,"               
                                                       "she’s too cute”
                              “She’s not that cute you know”
                                                  “she’s probably just easy, all of those pretty girls are”
                 “I wonder where she got all her clothes, probably from the 99cent store”
             “nah, too good for the 99Cent store, she probably stole it, stupid Mexican”
    “Haha, I know, she’s so poor, I bet she stole that  purse too, it’s too nice for her”
          “She’s so straight-edge, tree-hugging, boy-friend stealing, attention hog..”
                                                     “Stupid ugly slut”

Oh PLEASE, they don't even know me
Lord, spare me from these Barbie clones
That spawn over generations
Bleach blonde hair
With purses as big as their bodies
Hollow heads with a button nose

These, Sharks, beady eyed, immense jaws yawning
Try to eat victims alive
In a single gulp
Flock together like vultures mercilessly to consume
Girls worthy of attention
Blood-thirsty villains
Disgustingly morose

I laugh when I hear them whispering
Their attacks
Are bent on bending 
Twisting reflections in the mirror
When really, it’s beautiful
Inside and Out
I know what I am and could care less
About what they think
                                                                                       Jealously..
Is flattery, 
Keep talking about me, your making me                                    Famous
Movie Star Status, I have what they                                                           Want 

I let them feed on my inner glow
It’s what attracts them, you know
Until they get so full of me
That they
EXPLODE

 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ghosts of South Dakota part 4

	Of course on this night we are supposed to be asleep so Santa 
could come, but we hadn't been home from Midnight Mass very long, and the 
invigorating cold was not conducive to sleep.  Even the hot chocolate did not do 
much to help sedate the excitement.
	We were hoping for sleds that year.  The snow was perfect for 
sledding especially like we did it.  We tied out sleds on behind the car or pick up 
and were pulled through the hills.  We got our sleds.  My dad and my uncle made 
them for us.
	No television and only in the late years were we allowed to use the 
radio.  Batteries were to expensive for frivolous use.  We spent many hours 
playing cards or games.
	I took time out and went to high school and college and got my 
teaching certificate.
	My aunt taught there only one year after the Federal Government 
turned the schools over to the local government.
	The last time I was back there the out buildings had been moved and 
Indian families were living in them.  The school was dirty and unkept.
	Now the school is gone.  The ancestors who once walked these 
dusty plains are gone.  The Indians who were there when I was a child are gone.
	They are Ghosts.  Ghosts whose faces can be seen in the clouds.  
Ghosts  who still chop wood on those sub zero nights.  And the drums we heard 
in the middle of the nights are still beating.  They beat as strongly as the heart 
beats in a healthy body.  The laughter of the children still echoes under the 
bridge.
	The life blood of a culture, of a nation grows thin.  The Battle of 
Wounded Knee was the last battle to be fought  between the white man and the 
Indian on the northern plains.  It's cries still echo across the land.
	My foot prints in the creek did not last any longer than those they left 
in the dust.  But in my memories, this mile and a half by three quarter mile haven 
still lives.  And will live forever as a piece of unrecorded history.


Details | I do not know? | |

What If

Hey people why you listen to the people that don’t matter. You all get mad when the talk 
sh&t and when they put you down. Why do you think they continue to do it? It is because 
they get a reaction out of you and it drives them to get more. They feel like they have 
control over you and they are your masters and its pathetic. I’m not innocent no one is. 
Everyone does it either because they have had it done to them or because they feel like 
they have to be noticed. I’ve realized if you just laugh and completely ignore them you will 
have a better life and it will make life out to be better then what you thought it could ever 
be.  I know I can’t say I’m fully able to ignore everyone but it’s a process I have made a lot 
of progress and I have learned I am a lot happier and feel way better when I just laugh or 
walk away. If people actually stopped and didn’t say anything and laughed about it more 
people would stop bullying. I know it’s very hard to believe me and it’s a process I think 
everyone needs to take. Who are they to judge you? You are the only one who needs to 
accept you for you. If you can’t accept what you are and what your personality is without 
being embarrassed about it you can’t live with anyone else. If you stop right now and think 
about all of the times you retaliated and said something back at the person that was 
bothering you did it get better or did it get worse and ay what if I don’t say anything maybe I 
won’t get angry and maybe they will leave me alone. If you can take the first step even 
though it is the hardest one there is to take you will have a better outlook on life and 
yourself and you will be happier then you could ever imagine.  I don’t care who you are if 
you will only make the first step the next steps are a lot easier and you will learn to live life 
to the fullest and it will make you have more friends and you will have a better life style and 
you will have more fun instead of always being mad and sad and depressed. If everyone in 
the world would just take that one fateful step it would make all of the difference.


Details | Free verse | |

Who Though

Who would have thought the girl with the bright smile and joy enflamed in her eyes 
Sits' in the corner crying herself to sleep every night 
Who would have thought the boy walking the halls always giving a hand 
Wishs' that when he sleeps the gentle light may seep him off his feet 
Would would have thought the girl that ended her own life 
Was raped, beaten and bullied at both home and school 
Who would have thought our childrens children 
Have sought to use weapons and let eragancy become them making them a fool 
Who would have thought that no matter how we try for peace 
We show our children war is the answer
Who would have thought that our guidence
Has be clouded and no longer is pure 
Who would have thought teenage life is harder 
When your getting bullied or picked on in school 
Who would have thought that a person couldn't walk out of their house 
With out fear of being raped, shot, or stabed and death is finally at your door 
Who would have thought in life know a day's 
Death is more near to our lives then ever before 
    Who Would Have Thought


Details | Quatrain | |

He was Just a Little Boy

I was born unto this world
A little boy called James
I was just like all the rest
Who in the playground played normal games

I knew my life was in trouble
By the time I reached the age of five
My mother had so many friends
I wondered why I was alive

The kids all used to laugh at me
In my short trousers and bloodied knees
If only they had known
What was going on, in the inside of me

Would they ever know
Why a mother would put you down
And pretend that your not there
As another arrives from out of town

Have they ever wondered
To go to school with clothes unwashed
Sleep on a concrete floor
While your Mother's comfortably sloshed

Do they ever stop and wonder
What happens around them day by day
They can't, because they are young like me
When all they want to do is play

My teens are around the corner
To secondary school I go
I survive and I get wiser
As I intend my life to flow

As we travel down life's highways
When we are born they are seldom written
You know the roads you want to take
For inside you, your internally smitten 




Details | Rhyme | |

Bully

Throwing insults side to side. 
I wonder what you have to hide. 
Under that tough outside shell. 
Demons reeking total hell. 
Jealousy, Anger, Fear.
If I could just peer, 
Deep into your heart,
To fix that part.
That screw that's loose,
Which spills all the horrid abuse
I hope one day you see. 
You aren't tricking no one. 
Not me! 
 
 
 


 

 



 
 
  
 
 
 

 
 
 
 


Details | Free verse | |

Years

Years…
Sometimes friend
Often foe
How the years seem to flow
More quickly with each passing one
And less, it seems that we get done
With what years we’ve now left

Let this not, though,
Be our shame
Let us use each year the same
As we would use our waning breath
Until at last our earthly death
Does come, one final
Year





by Donna Golden 

May 23, 2005 (A few months before my twenty year high school reunion!)


Details | Haiku | |

Of a First Day In Suspension

          In the deans office,
Where I sit, the smell of tea
                    Soothes my fever.


Details | Free verse | |

You're The Weak One

YOU’RE THE WEAK ONE


You’re the weak one, you’re a bully.  The weak one is definitely
not me.

The bully is always the weak one, but your weakness you can’t
seem to see.

So, I’m going to try to shed a little light on your weak and inappropriate ways.

Your weakness began on your first bullying day.

Your false sense of power is not strength at all; it is a cry for help desperately trying to break through.

I actually feel a little sorry for you.

Weak kids like you always seek to find other kids they can dominate.

Bullies do this with vicious words, inappropriate actions, and misguided hate. 

Is being a weak bully the banner you want to carry for the rest of your life?

Get rid of the bully banner forever; take up a banner that shows respect, 
understanding, and tolerance for others, and always hold that one very high.

	Al Johnson