Anna Hopper Poet Rhyme

Growing Pains

All hope is lost, for fairytales
Happy endings are only fiction
High pitched whistles drown the bells
Only fools waste pennies, wishing

Dreams were big when we were small
Til we dose do’ed and swapped
Now we’re wise and know it all
The magic, abruptly, stopped

We began an early green
Then a striking red
It seems so very mean
How, gold will leave us dead

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Mark Miller February 26, 2018 at 9:20 AM This made me cry. I'm feel too deeply. Your poem affected me within. That is what poetry is meant to do. You art is precious because of your sincerity and truth of something so personal-Pain. But I can tell you something -you can find that which you seek. " Dasien". That clearing in the fade of the forest where light breaks the falling leaves into living blue.

Tim Smith February 10, 2018 at 12:34 PM The gold is awaiting you at the end of the rainbow. I love this

Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart February 9, 2018 at 10:29 PM Profound penning Anna! Well done! xomo :)