Loss School Poems

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Details | Lyric |
Another song written in middle school - edited of course. ;)
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[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]

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2011




Details | Rhyme |
When my son was small he and his friends loved to play marines
A brown eyed soldier dressed up in his helmet and his jeans
I asked him why he always died whenever they would play
He just said “I saved my friends, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way”

As he grew up his Mom and I always wondered what he’d be
When he reached high school he enrolled in their ROTC
Once he had finished high school he enlisted without delay
I should have known it all along, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

When he had finished training and became a full marine
I was the proudest father that anyone had ever seen 
A brown eyed soldier in full dress not a thread in disarray
Stood proudly there before me, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

He eventually got married to a beautiful young wife
And I asked if she was ready for a military life
She just smiled and hugged me tight as she fondly did convey
That nothing could make her prouder, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

One day he told us he must leave for a war had broken out
He wasn’t sure what started it or what it was about
His mother asked if there was any way that he could stay
He told her “Mom, it’s my duty”, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

She said “Son, it’s very dangerous, you could be killed you know”
He said “Mom, if we all stayed home there’d be no one left to go”
“Dad,” he said “If this war is right it’s not for me to say”
But I have to follow orders, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way 

Just recently his wife received a visit and a letter
Our son had died in combat and that there was not a better
Leader in all their company, and that on that fateful day
He’d bravely saved all of his friends, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

He left behind a sweet young wife and beautiful little son
We all are very proud of him and everything he’s done
My son did his duty and he is coming home today
In a flag draped wooden coffin, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

Some have asked if I’m angry that my only son had to die
I simply smile and shake my head and here is my reply
My friend take a look at all you have around you here this day
You have all of these lovely things, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

My grandson looks just like his Dad in his helmet and his jeans
As he plays out with his buddies, pretending they’re marines
And when he falls and pretends to die, then I know right away 
That he has just saved all his friends, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way


For William J. Holder
In memory of Jon R. "Sonny" Holder
Died during the Vietnam conflict

Copyright © Stephen Washam | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |
A light turned dark and gloom
Needing help but was invisible
Buried in the shadows 
Dark thoughts consuming
A mission brought upon them
Soon to be completed


Warning signs not to be seen
Being warned but not knowing
Unsuspecting they fell
Into the traps of the dark
Bringing panic upon them
Tried to flee but failing


Terrified but united they stand together
They helped and supported one another
United till the end, but not to forget
Love the broken ones

Copyright © Stefani Nicole Jeppesen | Year Posted 2017




Details | Narrative |
It was the first day of the new school year
The children of Beslan had no need to fear
In anticipation they eagerly left home for school
Some walked hand in hand with Mom and Dad
Others skipped along the well known path
Excitement filled the sidewalks and the streets
As fleeting thoughts collided in mid air

Some thought of new friends to be made
Others of old friends with whom to play
A little sister left at home 
Of baby brother asleep in his crib
Much too young to run and play
Some favorite lullabies which Grandmama sang 
As Grandpapa played his violin

The first day of the new school year
Mothers beamed with such pride
How their little ones had grown
Never would they ever want to let go
Others gave in to their children’s cries
‘Mamma, I do not want to go to school.
May I stay with you today?’

On wings of hate evil had already arrived 
With diabolical plans and bombs in hand
To maim and murder the children of Beslan
Who became captives in their little school house
After the dastardly deed was done
Dreams and aspirations lay splattered 'cross the floor 
Childhood innocence forever vanished! 

On the day of internment the sun in his temple hid
Earth wept pouring rain, her bitter tears
As Mothers’ voices cracked and strained 
Cried out loud, their children’s names
While others pleaded in vain for death
Fathers in a state of shock stood stoically in the cold autumn rain
Wearing faces carved in stone

The blood of children cried out to Heaven
Where at the throne of mercy 
Sits a God who is just 
Though their bodies lay broken in tiny white coffins
On angels' wings their souls did ascend  
He will judge all men and their deeds 
All, on one appointed day

A tribute to the children of Beslan, No. Ostetia, Russia 9/1-3/ 2004

Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2009

Details | Lyric |
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

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
You never listen
Yes I know it's true
I see you try and deny it
How's that working for you?

I will say one thing
You will hear another
I will try to fix it
The misunderstanding you see

I just got in trouble
(Sigh) I told you so
They never listen to me

They say they do 
And I know they try
But all I want to do is scream
"JUST LISTEN TO ME SOMEONE PLEASE"

All I asked is that you think
What is real?
Do I ever ask this?
Will I ever again?

All I really did
Was ask
For friend

All I want
Is to be free
Free to listen
And free to be me

Sadly though
You'll never see
Just how much your 
Not listening has killed me

I have tried
Really I did
I know that I'm not eighty
I know that I'm not nice
But the only thing I asked 
For was five minutes (at the most) of your life.

I'm sorry that you failed
I'm sorry that I tried but
Mostly I'm just sorry that
I'm not sorry,
Not anymore.

Copyright © Rayne Thomas | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |
I just wanted to let you know
That I have this love for you...
Although I'm not fast to show
For you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
And I can't control this love
No matter what I try to do...

While I know our lives are separating
Which has got me pretty blue
I just want you to know
How much I love you...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

Oh how I still see you every night in my mind
You're the best girl I feel I'll ever find
And when my eyes would fall upon your smile
My heart would be put on trial
And so if nothing else, I want to let you know
That I'll always love you, that my hearts beat
For you, won't ever slow...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

So I wish you happiness beyond compare
And sorry for the times I couldn't help but stare
Caring, passionate, smart, and loving
From my heart, to you, I'll never be shoving

You will always be in my heart
No matter where we go, how far we drift apart...

Goodbye My Love...

Copyright © Andrew Shannon | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
Because I'm Ready To Grow Up

I have had enough 
Enough with the happy times

I'm ready to take on the stress
No more playground or bubbles baths please
Enough with the piles and piles of mess
I'm grown up now ready for change

I had it with being a baby bird
I don't want to be fed I don't want to cry
I want to get out of the nest, spread my wings 
I want to take flight in the sky so high

I had enough of the princess dresses 
Get rid of those Barbie dolls
Throw away all those plastic high heels
And bring on the teenage texting of Lols

Don't u get it I've had enough
I'm ready to grow up to break out of the shell
I'm prepared to take on life's earthquakes 
Waiting for the day when I'll have stories to tell

Princesses and fairies will never be real
There is nothing in the world that's free
You don't magically have a happy ending
All i can be in life is me

So I'm ready to grow up
To escape the magical world
For you have to earn whatever you want
Nothing comes in a pink sparkly twirl


So I've had enough
Rip my childhood apart
I'm happy to face the impending future
drown the happy memories in my heart

Copyright © Sapphire Williams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Acrostic |
P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
!!

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet |

The Yearbook


The years have since gone by—
aged seniors now are we.
I scan each page to see
lost friends with teary eye;
then note, with relieved sigh,
some are still here with me.

Our yearbook is online—
my high school friends all there.
But posted clear to share,
a list beneath a sign
of those who crossed the line
and climbed our Heaven's stair.

Salutes to each dear friend—
here—joy and sorrow blend.


Sandra M. Haight

~3rd Place~
Contest: HexSonnetta
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Judged: 09/19/2015

~6th Place~
Premiere Contest: Contest 204
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 09/17/2016
Form: HexSonnetta


Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
Happiness in a Wrong way – Zamreen Zarook

In the notion of seeking happiness,
I thought of stepping in to nonsense,
I dream I could find success,
But I had only little access.

Every attempt that I lend,
It was an utter failure at the end,
My life was full of difficult bend,
But God is always there as a good friend.

My deeds travel in various ways,
Some times in subways,
Or in times it goes in highways,
But I had the belief, God is there always.

North and south families surrounded,
East and west friends are rounded,
Every time fear on death soughed,
I am trapped, and my merits are loaded.

Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
We Need God Back Into Our Schools!

There are some trying to remove God from this nation!
They do is under; “a church and state separation.”

For many years,  God was taught in our schools!
Until the Supreme Court took it away, with it’s rules!

As so many young people look to fill life’s “void.”
They try many things that they think they’ll enjoy!

Rather than having God’s word to obey and live by.
They choose the kind of life that they will die by!

Drugs, sex and violence of many perverted kinds.
Are what is now filling so many young people’s minds!

Read the headlines!  Many young people are stressed out!
Yet our government can’t seem to figure it out!

Another shooting…  Another act of violence appears!
While any kind of answer seems to have disappeared!

The answer is not more money to solve their problem!
No matter how much the government tries to solve them!

Let me give you answer.  It’s called “read the Bible 101!”
It’s time to repent to God the father, the spirit and the son!

Our young people need God brought back into their life!
And allow him to heal their brokenness and strife!

Jesus Christ is the solution for which many are asking!
Only he can give anyone a life that’s everlasting!

Please come Lord Jesus!  And heal the wounded hearts!
It’s everyone one of us, that it needs to start!

No court or school can separate God’s love for you and me!
Where will you spend your eternity?

By Jim Pemberton   10/24/13

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
our tears fall
this seems so unreal
it was just the other day
that we heard your laughter
saw your smile
but now we're crying
remembering you
wishing you were here right now
telling you jokes
and laughing out 
but now your gone
heaven above
we love you girl
remembering you forever.....
....R.I.P ASHLEY DAVIS....

{ASHLEY AND I WENT TO MIDDLE SCHOOL TOGETHER.....SHE GOT IN A BAD 
CRASH BUT...SURVIVED WITHOUT A SCRATCH....THEN WE WENT TO HIGH 
SCHOOL TOGETHER...SHE GOT HIT BY A CAR...SHE WAS IN A COMMA FOR A WEEK 
OR TWO...BUT DIED....SHE BARELY FINISHED HER FRESHMEN YEAR...MATTER OF 
FACT SHE B ARELY STARTED...}
MAY SHE REST IN PEACE.......

Copyright © aneysa churchwell | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |
As the dawn expells its authoritive cast; they awake, but are abandoned. They
turn--but their friend the sun ignores  and they understand.   They commune
their relationship and part with their memories;   and sigh.

They say their good-byes in a tone of fullfilment, but aface their anxieties
toward the skies for hope; but are denied. A clouded sky brings a chill in the 
air and a rustling of rakes and flames. 

Old as hell, written in HS for publication, circa 1971 by me. When I was young in the 60's in Ohio, we burned leaves in our backyard; sometimes our household trash too. You had to be me to be there GV. Count me in as last place. Take care.  

Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Looking at the first blush of the morning,
I know its the perfect day for a wedding.
The big fat white wedding, the dream,
To which every little girl clings.
 
I tell myself as I watch the clouds turn white,
That this is the happiest day of a woman's life,
And that nothing should come in between,
The perfect bride and her groom.
 
I remember those young moments when I used to dream,
Of how our wedding would seem.
It was just like I had imagined,
A pretty day like today.
 
Slipping into my white dress and stilettos,
I think of the way you had proposed.
The way I had always wished for,
A dazzling ring in sparkling champagne.
 
I switch to happier thoughts from our past,
Holding hands, watching stars, laying on the grass.
We were high school sweethearts,
The perfect couple was what they called us.
 
We spent our days sneaking in a few kisses,
We used to pretend to be Mister and Mistress.
We were in love,
The crazy, eternal and rare kind.
 
Memories are shoved as mother comes into the room,
Holding a few red roses in full bloom.
Her eyes are teary and her voice is shaky,
As she whispers that she is proud of me.
 
Tears spill but I smile as I slide into the car,
Remembering the times you'd sing to me with your guitar.
The times you'd reach over and,
Tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
 
I laugh silently as I remember on the way to the chapel,
You saying once you were the beast and I, the belle.
You  always bring little candles and gifts,
And laugh as I make my birthday wish.
 
I wonder if you'd be laughing today,
As you cut the wedding cake with the sugar bouquet.
If you'd remember our old ceremonies,
In the event of your new one.
 
I walk through the gates smiling at our old friends,
And take your brother's hand as his arm extends.
He takes me in but lets me go,
As we reach the door to the flowery hall.
 
I peek through the crack to see you there,
At the altar smiling, running a hand through your hair.
I slip in and move to the side,
As the wedding march starts to play.
 
In came the blushing bride, walking gracefully down the aisle,
At her friends and family, she nods and smiles.
As I hold my breath and wipe my eyes,
Our high school love story plays in my head. 
 
I remember the day we promised we'd never part,
Because I would always be the one in your heart.
But your bride and you exchange your vows,
And I find myself repeating them inside.
 
The priest asks you to kiss your bride,
And I quickly slip outside.
Because no matter how alright I say I am,
Letting you go was the hardest thing I had ever done.
 
 
- Miliya Parveen

Copyright © Miliya Parveen | Year Posted 2011

Details | Romanticism |
A warm tear in my eye
As I just wonder why
Why you had to leave me, fly away far
Now for you, alone, I wish to our star

There's so many love songs
I'll play them all, and think of you
I loved everything you were
Loved everything you do

Rise and shine on another day, with you away
All alone I am now, with nothing much to say
Your face is always in my mind
As I dream of the best I'll ever find

These Words To You, my love
I'll write them in a letter
And seal it with a kiss
In hopes that I'll feel better
To the one I miss

Girls that don't ask for much
Oh how they deserve it all
And as this love was such
She's leading to my fall

Her big beautiful eyes
A bold and loving brown
Still makes my heart fly
But still makes my lips frown

And that dirty golden hair
Always tied neatly back
So smooth and curly and long
Got my heart out of whack

These Words To You, my love
I'll write them in a letter
And seal it with a kiss
In hopes that I'll feel better
To the one I miss

Copyright © Andrew Shannon | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Visits long ago 
to the Blaskets Islands,
to untouched areas 
on the Dingle peninsula
came to mind 
on this sleet winter’s eve.

The peninsula,
nestled in heather mountains.
The coastline,
tongues of lonely white sand.
waved rocks,
drenched in blue mussels
tide pools, 
alive with shrimps and periwinkles
A sea-salted life
unspoiled and free.

Only marine life remains,
but I still hear the music
our native language,
the voices of Seanchaí
the ballads, sean?s, 
Peig Sayers
who shaped our school years,
her renditions of island life
her mad pise?gs,
handed down 
from generation to generation.

Stories of
Islanders huddled together
under thatch,
open turf fires
cooking pot on a hook,
the sweet air wafting
of clay pipe tobacco
a pinch of snuff
sniffed from a silver box,
nursing a glass 
of neat Poitín, uisce beatha,
the strong smell of tweeds
and geansaí báinín.

I think of times lost,
changed forever.
Cottage ruins,
where goats roam free,
An Blascaod Mór
my history, my heritage.

Gaelic words in this poem


* Seanchaí – storytellers
Sean?s – singing without music
Peig Sayers and her mad pise?gs – A Gaelic writer who we studied in school and her mad superstitions.
Poitín, uisce beatha – very strong alcohol made from potatoes, called the water of life.
geansaí báinín – strong sheep wool sweaters usually in a cream colour with complex patterns.




Copyright © Eiken Laan | Year Posted 2011

Details | Concrete |
A serpent underneath blue sky,
in shade of man, in twinkle of an eye,
above brick wall, in the structure, at the floor,
venom of white dove; contaminated food, undrinkable water,
misguided youth, pregnant daughter, unfaithful father and hateful son,
mothers do pray while we walk through Babylon;
on teli and in the press, on top shells,
price none the less, in bedroom and at your door..
dawn of a new day seemed to be dark,
after all.

Copyright © Miche Ulman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
As I sit here and wonder what went wrong,
I realized, nothing went wrong.
People say it was your time to leave this world,
to go and see your savior, your God.
But really, everyone knows it was your Johnny boy, the Fisherman.
He couldn't spend another second without you.
His beautiful lover, the wonderful mother, the amazing grandmother.

As I sit here and wonder about what you're doing,
I imagine you two dancing and singing with your buddies from Bailo's.
I imagine you watching over your family and leading them in the right direction.
I could almost see you sitting on the bleachers for my high school graduation,
and I started to tear up knowing you were there watching.

As I sit here and wonder about you,
I know you miss us just as much as we miss you.
Ryan and Jackie will never know how kind and gentle you were, like a summer breeze.
Bella will never know how generous and humorous you were, making everyone laugh.
But I will know, and I will tell them, even if it is with tears in my eyes.

As I sit here and wonder about my future,
I think of you. 
You always knew I was going to be a successful person.
And I always believed you.

Mema,
my number one role model. My favorite grandmother.
My best friend.


RIP Roberta J. Kobstad 
11/8/1941~~1/24/2012
You will be forever missed.

Copyright © Jeanette Castiglione | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
The brown eye girl is heartbroken a friendship of over a decade is finished She tried and tried to get it to work out for the better. But nothing works time and time again finally she heard what he had to say. he says he regrets meeting her at their old high school. Even talking to her that day. The brown eye girl cries for hours trying not to think of all the things she wanted to say to the blue eye curly hair man. It just makes her feel worse.  She doesn't know why she should feel like crap when it was him who hurt her not the other way around.  In truth they should have done things differently but that is the past. All the brown eye girl cares about is never hearing his name ever again.

Copyright © jesse McDonald | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
Listen to the school bell
Ring 
Distant plaintive 
Wail

Beyond anything the mind can 
Comprehend

And return to a deserted field 
Where spirited girls and boys
Once played

Before 
Becoming mature
Women and men

When I hear the laughter
Childish screams
And ghostly
Cheers

I can feel a world at 
Peace
Overcoming my 
Fears

Of a future without 
Love
And the solitude I 
Chose

Of a future without
Birth
And the terminus
Imposed

Didn’t I hear a sprightly piano
Plinking through a 
Window
Near that faded
School yard?

Reminds me of you
Bright girly radiance
Dressed in 
Black 
Leotard

Dancing all the time 

We were carefree
Back then
Before the days of 
Wrinkled
Women
Defeated 
Silver
Men

Can I return to that time
With my old soccer ball?

Play with young spirits
Long passed away

Can I redo the errors 
Stamped upon my life?

Recapture 
Lost hopes 
Yesterday

That’s a sharp
School bell
Ring 

Distant plaintive wail

Beyond anything  the mind can 
Comprehend

But there’s no return 
To a deserted field 
Where spirited girls and boys
Once played

Before 
Becoming mature
Women and men

There’s no return to 
The beginning 

No return

When you’ve
Reached 
The
End

Copyright © Catman Cohen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Footle |
*I've read so many amazing poems since my return to Poetry Soup. I've been inspired to try more structured poetry, and explore different types. Here's my first try at a footle.*


Adore
Need more

--Part not
--Heart caught

Time spent
Love lent

--Touch soul
--Feel whole

Wonder lust
No trust.

--Don't go
--Tears flow

You leave
I plead.

--Love lost
--The cost

Awoke
Heart Broke

--I Cry
--Goodbye

First love
Free of.

Copyright © Rachel W | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse |
Babies of Beslan............



The darkest day in history, 
Brought tears to my eyes. 
Many Russians murdered, 
In a mass of horrid cries. 

Hundreds of innocent people, 
Seen fleeing through the streets. 
Bodies thrown onto the verge, 
In a sea of blood-stained sheets. 

So many kept within a school, 
Being held against their will. 
Suicide bombers with booby traps, 
That care not who they kill. 

An act by Chechen rebels, 
Seeking freedom for their kin. 
With scenes of utter carnage, 
From those terrorists within. 

Semi-naked children, 
Seen running through the street. 
The Chechen rebels in the school, 
Shooting at their feet. 

Bombs and bullets filled the air, 
As the smoke engulfed the skies. 
People running from the school, 
With terror stricken eyes. 

Such barbaric bloody actions, 
Brought death and undue pain. 
The heart of the Beslan community, 
Won't see their like again. 

May the Lord our God watch over you, 
May he guide you by his light. 
May he hold you in his arms again, 
And keep you safe tonight........... 


In memory of the children and teachers of the Beslan school massacre.

Copyright © Leighton Rees | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad |
Toy collector:

He holds the bear gently in his old wrinkled hands as he gazes into its kind beaded eyes. The toy collector sees love lined in its double stitches and his childhood in the busted toys smile.

There stitched in black thread he can hear the sound of a child laughter, happiness, and growth reviving his memory of youth, like a jolt of life to an empty vein.

The years have passed freely, almost fleeting by. He had no more time to play in grassy school yards or hide from girls wearing satin dress, he had to grow up. The boy eventually turned into a man and was forced to pack away his toys regrettably into a wooden box.

There they sat in the attic awaiting the return of their beloved friend while he aged slowly into an adult.

High school came and went, college, even marriage but unfortunately he was never blessed with his own child. No one to share in the lined pleats of his own childhood. All of this he now recognizes in the bears sandy eyes.

The toy collector hands his most prized procession to his wife, a dazed look covering his forlorn face. 

She takes his withered hand and speaks gently in his ear.
“All the memories in the world could never replace the love between a man and his bear.”

“Yes, but even the toy collector eventually grows to old and must let go.”
He replies in woe.

His thin lips force a smile as he repacks the boxes that escaped him long ago and in the early morn of the next day he patently sits alone outside for a bus to come.

The driver honks her horn and greats him with a warming smile.
“Are all of these toys for our orphanage?”

The toy collector regrettably nods.
“Things have been pretty rough but this will surly lift there sprits up.”
She confesses as she gently grabs a random box.

As she stacks them one by on into the now cluttered van his bear falls onto the pavement below.

Unable to pick it up he wrinkles his brow with great sadness.
Suddenly the passenger door opens revealing the face of a young girl and as she draws near she extends her hand and clutches the bear.

“Did you find a friend little Lou?”

His heart melts as she kisses the teddy gently then smiles.
“thank you.”
The child coos softly.

The toy collector lives in the toys he collects, but the man lives forever in the bear the child now possesses.





























Copyright © Whitney Hart | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
If I could dream
for anything
I would dream of Peace, Love
and Unity
for all Bloods & Crips
all gangs, are in need of a change
for you represent such ignorance
and scrutiny 
Difference in colors worn
Sides in which you were born
are truly all that divides
when the two opposing sides
collide
and it makes no sense
for we all Bleed
Blue turned Red
Blood Inside
And a future generation
is hard to provide
when death, is like your shadow
creepin' up by your side
and drive-by shootings happen
each late night, outside
where running seems the only option
to know
for no places to hide
no defense for your demise
for a difference in colors worn
and what side in which you were born
is truly all that divides
when these two sides collide
and it makes no sense to me
for we all Bleed
Blue turned Red
Blood Inside

Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010

Details | Cinquain |
Mommas sorry I took you from
The only life that you knew of

Mommas sorry I took you away
From your world of friends of every day

Mommas sorry you had to adjust
To brand new teacher’s and studious musts

Mommas sorry you haven’t fit in
To a school of strangers and what had been

Mommas sorry I had no other choice
Than to sooth your fears using my voice

Mommas sorry if you feel all alone
But I’ll guide you through this fearful unknown

Mommas sorry you’ve tried so very hard
Still nothing has changed, all but new scars

Mommas sorry for the sudden change
Adapt my daughters to all that’s strange

Give me time to help you feel at ease
Give me the moment to help you please

© Stacy Lynn Stiles

Copyright © Stacy Stiles | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme |
I went straight from High school into the service,
I was feeling proud but extremely nervous.
My mother cried with tears of joy,
she said, “I will try to stop referring to you as my little boy.”

I arrived at Basic Training with a bus load of candidates,	
we were greeted quite loudly at the main entry gates. 
The Drill Sergeants called us everything they could think of,
we knew, at least from them, we would receive no love.

We were too young to drink and barely able to vote,
we were all different races, but we were in the same boat.
We had eight weeks to learn how to work as a team,
we started to believe that it was all a bad dream!

We went to bed late but were up before dawn,
we do more before nine is definitely right on!
Basic Training was tough but we all got through it,
things would get worst and we pretty much knew it.

We would be on the front lines as Infantry Soldiers,
there would be a lot of responsibility put on our shoulders.
The first orders we received took us to the Middle East,
our primary mission was to bring about peace.

For the first time in our lives we were in a foreign land,
the things we saw you could never understand.
The precision bombings caused so much destruction,
the whole place looks like it needs reconstruction.

We are under attack on a regular basis,
our so-called enemy is in more and more places.
Perhaps we are acquiring more and more enemies, 
the hate for us here is like an infectious disease.

We were instrumental in removing a terrible dictator,
but the level of danger here has gotten even greater.
Nobody wants to admit that we are in a civil war,
many of us are now on our second or third tour.

I have lost some of my comrades along the way,
we all know the risks and that is all I can say.
We will defend our country from all enemies, foreign and domestic,
we are a force to be reckoned with and we are not to be messed with!

We will win this so-called war on terror,
messing with the United States was their biggest error!
A successful completion of our mission would be a thing of beauty,
we are proud we answered “the call to duty.” 

Copyright © Gary Tavares | Year Posted 2008

Details | I do not know? |
I am a poet writing of my pain
I am a person living a life of shame
I am your daughter, hiding my depression
I am your sister, striving to make a great impression
I am your friend acting like I'm fine
I am a dreamer, wishing this life, wasn't mine
I am a girl who struggles with suicide
I am a teenager, pushing her tears aside







Side note: (Writing for other ladies out there, not so much myself, so don't worry about me)

Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |
My home state loses a football field, 
Of coastal land each day of the year.
I’m no cheerleader about this,
It fills my heart with fear.

I wish I had funds to donate to the cause.
Maybe if I expressed my thoughts of the situation,
It would cause others to pause.
As the pelicans swim to the beat,
 Of their inward drum,
And contribute to the state,
That many other states of the union,
Were carved from.

Way back before humans existed,
Our dear state Louisiana was merely sea floor.
If we humans that exist today,
Don’t get serious about this erosion problem,
The state where jazz was born,
Will be sea floor once more.

Our coastal industries, beautiful magnolia trees,
And the capital of the Old South,
Will no longer exist.
We won’t be able to reminisce about anything,
If our hindrance persists.

Like bacteria attacks a cell,
Our precious land is being attacked as well.
Like our educated out migrants,
Land is leaving without being replaced.
Saving this land helps us ecologically:
This includes the human race.

Please fellow residents and people who once,
Or never lived here before.
Fill Louisiana’s heart with cheer,
By contributing to this worthy cause.
If one can’t give monetarily, 
 He or she should then take a pause.
Be creative and think of other ways,
That one is able to help this wonderful state.

We would certainly appreciate anything you do,
To help us out.
I know the pain of the land will be eased,
Without a doubt.

Our state has faith in us as we have faith in it.
Let us not only be cheerleaders, but star players.
So that our precious land can stay strong,
Throughout its layers.
This erosion problem can be very costly:
Climatic changes, loss of land, animal and plant species,
And human lives are just a few.
Please help save our wetlands,
Because it is part of the old and of the new.


Wrote November 2003 almost exactly 2 years before Hurricane Katrina,
while student @ ULM and concerned about the issue, as a student and scientist the topic of 
New Orleans going under and the Mississippi River flow and creation of Louisiana  was talked 
about since  I was in elementary school in the mid '80s was a main topic of concern for the 
gubernatorial election held that year, and during that political official's term as governor, 
Hurrican Katrina hit, Louisiana politics I tell you- they simply tell people what they want to 
hear!

Copyright © Nicole Sharon Brown | Year Posted 2009

Details | Acrostic |
S lain 
A nonymously
N eighbors
D umbfounded by
Y ?

H ow could he?
O ne more tragedy
O ver 25 bodies
K eep them in your prayer please, children of Tragedy

©Copyright December 16, 2012 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Brian Pierre-Alexander | Year Posted 2012