Get Your Premium Membership

Best 6Th Grade Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best 6Th Grade poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of 6th grade poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for 6Th Grade poems, articles about 6Th Grade poems, poetry blogs, or anything else 6Th Grade poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:

Poems are below...



New 6Th Grade Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best 6Th Grade poems are below this new poems list.

View all new 6Th Grade Poems

The Best 6Th Grade Poems

Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My Girl

Secretly, I watch the neighbors, 
From my well-advantaged location.
Mrs. G. is complaining about her husband to Mrs. S.
No one's drama is ever as vivid as Mrs. G's.
They full-body laugh, tongues out.
Mr. P. is going to be late for supper again; 
I can hear Mrs. P. cussing.
At 4:15 I hear the all-day waited slam of a backdoor.
My girl is running toward me, flat out.
She is carrying a white pillow and gray blanket.
There's a plastic bag swinging from her arm as she climbs.
Prior experience tells me the sack holds a book, a drink
and her favorite sandwich - mayonnaise, peanut butter and lettuce.
After smashing a few ants on my floor, the girl flops down, 
and begins to read.
I smile as she devours the sandwich like a young starving wolf.
She's ten, the perfect age to devour.
Every day is the same except Saturday.
On Saturday my girl spends the whole day inside me,
reading two to three books at a time.
It is our favorite day.
Her sister runs out sometimes and begs the girl to play,
but we are fighting pirates, conquering Asia, taming macaws.
We are so in tune, she and I.
When I hear "CANDICE MILLIE STREET COME IN IMMEDIATELY!"
I know my girl has to climb down and run for the house, 
leaving me alone, 
to spy on the neighbors.


Date: 8/28/2018       What the Hell Throw One In   John Lawless, Sponsor


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Do You Need Some Pixie Dust

Laughing, dancing, having the time of her life,
Faerie Fun went from mushroom house to toadstool cottage,
Spreading joy,
Playing with everyone
In a kind and pleasant way.
There was going to be no sadness
In Faerie Forest today if she could help it.
It is up to me, she said.
I am the catalyst for happiness today.
She ate breakfast with the Nymph family,
And they laughed about silly stuff,
But no people.
She watched Lila Leprechaun’s Lilliput dance,
And she clapped and clapped while
Mama Leprechaun took care of the
Unhappy baby. Baby calm. All is well.
Faerie Fun was soon skipping
Up the walk to the most challenging
House of all.
Change your attitude! She warned herself.
Change your attitude!
Her jaw was clamped tightly shut now, and she 
Was already filled with dread.
Pixie Dust! Her internal voice yelled. NOW!
The sparkly particles surrounded her, and settled down all over her, calming her instantly, and
Changing her attitude from not-so-great to wonderful.
Before she left Grump-Eater’s house, he gave her a long, lingering hug.  No one gets me like you, he said.
Progress at last.
Sometimes it is simply a matter of us changing our attitude.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Being Disliked Means Nothing to a Bully---picture 3


Twelve-year-old Cliff was moaning in his sleep.
Again--bad dreams of Bob the Bruiser who
lived right next door. Bob was a thug, a creep
who picked on smaller kids like Cliff and knew
on Monday mornings they’d have cash to steal,
lunch money for the week. He’d take it all.
Till after school, these kids would get no meal.
The Bruiser ate his fill and had a ball.

Bad Bob saved up a pile of loot and bought
a bike. He told his victims what he’d done.
He jeered, “You’ve got no proof. I won’t get caught.
Tormenting all you losers is such fun!”

One day the bike was lying in between
his yard and Cliff’s. The Bruiser wasn’t there.
Cliff was outside. A man he’d never seen
said, “Let me buy your bike. I’ll treat you fair!?

Cliff’s conscience stirred, but then he thought of how
he’d been abused and robbed. He said, OKAY!”
The stranger said, “Two hundred?” Cliff yelled, “WOW!
That’s just right, Sir.” This was Cliff’s lucky day.

Bob’s parents would deal wisely with their son
when neighbors told them just what he was like.
They’d see he made amends for all he’d done.
They’d NEVER know what happened to that bike.


January 12, 2018

entered in Eve Roper's There's a Brighter Side Contest (picture 1)
 






Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Relatives Re-inact A Romantic Reconciliation

Oh, yes, Darling! Please meet me up the street, in fifteen minutes, right past the old tan house with that porch, bamboo.
We need to talk about things, you and me, without your mean relatives, and that includes your cousin Ted Stew.
I’d gladly trade this car for a completely untarnished marriage certificate, cleaned out of the day-old flu.
But, fiance’, dearest, you have yet to show me your love nest, your side honey, or your super-secret tattoo,
So now that you realize I might cost you money, you love me forever, and think you can let go and forget the Queen of Vooody-Voo- Doo?
Sure, Sweet Darling. Being pre reasonable, I would certainly like to review our marriageable status, and begin trusting you anew.
Of course, we had better hurry, so we get this trust thing sorted, and my family decides to re-include you,
I do not think any love-you-forever ceremony, fancy hall, or wedding vows I will seriously pursue.
If you decide to take the challenge, there on the steps wearing their juiciest smiles, are my mother, Grandma Kell and cousin Lou.
Sure, they do all have guns, permits, frying pans, and razors. Confidentially, they’re in a hum dinger of a stew about you too.
What more can I do, Sugar Bear?  I’ve led you right to them, right up these pretty blue and white steps, and frankly, honey, it’s the best thing I could ever do.
So saying, I guess all my relatives are ready to talk and slap and pinch and punch, and fight and scrap, and kick, because they’re sort of mad you made me so blue.
Bye, Sweetie. I’m off for the weekend with my new honey, Rick, a gentle, kind, God-fearing man, who doesn’t want to stick around to see what they’re going to do.




Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Love is a bond

Love is the confluence of two peoples,
this bond is of two relationships,
one is way and one is the destination.
One of the hearts of both heart beats.
This is the bond of all their births.
Love is the confluence of two peoples,


Copyright © Kishan sharma | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Simple Hamburger If You Please

Sure.
Ketchup.
Pickle
Horseradish too.

Mayo 
Lettuce?
That’s up to you.

Are your patties thin or thick?
Can I gobble one down right quick?

A touch of butter
A slab of bacon.

Please put them on 
If mine you’re making.

Are your patties thin or thick?
Can I gobble one down right quick?



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The F Poem

Five 
Fancy
Fleshy
Foxy
Friends
Followed
Feather-like
Finery
For
Fun-filled,
Flashy
Farfetched
Floppy
Flip-flops
Forever
Flowered.



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Young Bully Named

There once was a bully named Jim.
He made people cry on a whim.
He was big, bad and mean
And had a name-calling machine,
because he was not very smart, this man, Jim.

There once was a bully named Thad.
He called names and pulled hair, when mad.
We made him our pal,
And he said, "you guys are a wow!"
And he changed his whole attitude and was glad.


There once was a bully named Day.
He did everything to keep people away.
We ignored his bad side,
which he soon learned to hide.
Our new friend, who now liked to play.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Land of Dreams

Land of Dreams 
Candy-colored beams 
Tree streams of Yellow Lemon Dew Drops

Red, Green and Blue Gumballs Cars

The path to Rainbow City covered with Peppermint Boat Docks

Sugar Cane Boats floating thru a Chocolate covered River

All sorts of Colored Coded Candy, that is sure to please

A little boy and little girls wish would sure to have a Candy Land Adventure in the 
Land of Dreams


Copyright © Migdalia Torres | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Thwarting the Bullies

Shelly said that Darlene said that
Tina said that you are an ignorant fool.
So?
Jinny said that Zinna was rolling her eyes at you.
Farina said you have cooties.
So?
Do you want to hear what Allie said about you?
No, thanks.
Minnie said….
“I don’t want to hear it,” I tell her, skipping away.
“You are a poppie butt!” she yells after me.
Thank you, I yell back.
“You are CRAZY!” she hollers, angry now.
“THANK YOU!” I yell louder.
“They were talking trash about you,” my friend tells me.
Wait a second. This is my friend?
“Are you going to talk to them about it?”
No.
Are you going to fight them?
I throw back my head and laugh.
Once I mastered the skip away, the stay away and the thank you
Bullies had no power over me.
They started bothering others.
I try to teach my friends
Bullies will leave you alone
If they don’t think you are getting mad or sad.
Being so danged light skinned .
I had a terrible time mastering
Those telling pink cheeks.
I had to practice with
Trusted friends,
By letting them calling
Me names and practicing
My strategies.
The Keep Away.
The Skip Away.
The Thank You.
Believe me,
I now have it right.
No one bothers
Me now.
It’s simply
No
Damned 
Fun.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

13 And Confident

She is assertive.
When she does not want to do 
something, she lets you know.

She honors herself.
Her heart shows her the way.
She listens to her inner voice.
She is 13, and confident.

She cannot be cajoled, swayed, or lured.
She is her own person, following her path.
Making choices that delight herself, and no one but.

She is a dynamo.
On a clear course.
She has met no one who can fool her.
I pray she never does.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

She Is Taking My Friends Away

She is taking all my friends away.
Something I commonly hear.
Daily.

And it is weird but
As soon as it happens
The victim wants no other friend
But that one.

Crazy?
Yes,
But so
Third grade!


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Loses Things Too

She was never on time
bought her a watch
she loses things too





Written July 17, 2018
Entered Mick Talbot's  Senryu Poetry Contest


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Cat Nip Addict


catnip
cat addict
marijuana
cat resembles vampire
catnip



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Big Hand Little Hand Long Hand Short Hand

When I was little I thought the older a person was, the more brain cells you grew.
Thus, older people are smarter than little people. 
That thought was long gone by the time I was four or five.
At eight I was so confused by big hand and little hand on the clock, I thought I would lose my mind.
Big hand to me was little hand, because the big hand they were talking about was the thin longer hand.
Thinner to me meant little, not big.
The thick hand they were calling little hand actually should have been referred to as short hand, but it
Was not. To the big people it was little hand. To me it was big hand because it was the fattest hand.
I did not know how to tell time for about a hundred years, because it did not make sense!
I could not get it, so of course, this was the unit I was elected to teach when I was a student teacher.
And for those of you who like math, do you understand a bit more why the word math strikes terror in my soul?
Big hand. Little hand. Good golly, Miss Molly. 
If they had only used short hand, and long hand I would have immediately understood
Because I KNEW words.
Not math, not telling time, not numbers, but I did know words.
Teaching me to tell time would have been insanely simple, if the right words could have been used!
Why did they not understand what I was trying to figure out?
Because they did not LISTEN to me.
I was a child, after all.
A child who knows her words.
Big hand for long hand?
Long hand for big hand?
Everyone was too busy shaking their head and telling me ‘no’ to realize what I was saying.
Listen people, listen, because your children are smarter than you know, and they are
Trying to talk.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Missing My Game Pieces

My Silver top hat and my Boardwalk card are missing.
This happened to my cousin.
It is only a matter of time until this gets discovered.
By the time it does it will be too late.
I am going to try to contact prissy woman
With telepathy.
Look under the couch,
Look under the couch!
Uh-0h.
Vrrrrmmmmmmmm
There goes my Boardwalk card.
I will be replaced now.
Competitive Man’s favorite
Property is Boardwalk.





Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Can A Dragon Be A Friend

Fiction? Fantasy?
True or make-believe?
Use the fear of men
Throw in a princess
Dragon adventure

Horrible thing
Where is a knight?
Where is his sword?
They are brutal

Fierce and proud
Smoky, loud
Lonely, sad?

A pet?
A friend?

Smoke?


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

They Said

She is odd, they said.
She won’t talk to you.
She is stuck up.
She is mean.

He did not believe them.
Them who had lied about him also when he was the new kid.
He sat with her during lunch.
They laughed like hyenas; he found her refreshing and delightful.

After school they cornered him.
They accused him of being disloyal to the pack.
They were angry that he did not take their word about her awfulness.
They were incensed that he had a mind of his own.

She is depressed, they said. She is a downer. She is bad news. Stay away or we will not be your friends.

He saw her sad, and soothed it.
He understood her downs, she had reasons for them.
So he sat with her at lunch, and he walked her home, and they used their sense of humors and they laughed.
Being with her felt wonderful, being with her was cathartic, being with her was love.

They were angry now. They surrounded him with baseball bats and bully clubs.
If you insist on following your heart and being nice to her, we will hit you, they told him.
We will hurt you.  
We will kill you.
She is different, they told him. She is odd.  One of them spit on his arm to prove his rightness.

He threw back his head and laughed at them and he did not stop laughing. He laughed for hours.
Their faces were mad. They were upset. They were so angry.  They ran away, because they could not change him.
She came out of her house, ready to be walked to school.
What was that? She asked him.
A bunch of silliness, he told her.

They got married, and made friends all around the world.
Friends who liked them for having a sense of humor and minds of their own
And they lived happily ever after.



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Lions Tigers And Bears Oh Why

Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh, my.
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh why?
Lions and Tigers and Bears are not really all that scary to me,
When we read the facts about other animals in tropical forests, and under the sea.

We should change the song to this little tune:
Puffer Fish, Golden poison dart frog and the tsetse fly, oh my.
Puffer Fish, Golden poison dart frog and the tsetse fly, oh why?
These little creatures are as scary as the cone snail which is no cartoon.
The cone snail has a hypodermic-like needle with venom, shaped like a harpoon.
So if you see a cone shell, on a beautiful beach,
Remind yourself it may be alive, before you reach.

If you are in a rain forest, and you see the cutest little golden frog hopping through,
Know before you pocket it that it weighs less than an ounce, but has enough poison to kill you.
The golden poison dart frog could take you out, and nine of your favorite fellow travelers too.  
The toxin, which comes out of her sweet little skin, 
could show you all what a mood she is in.
The puffer fish is clumsy, and slow, and cannot readily hide.
But his toxins are more deadly than twelve hundred spoons of cyanide.
Lions, tigers, and bear, oh my.
Better them than the puffer fish, golden dart frog, cone snail, and the tsetse fly.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My Most Embarrassing Moment

I scorn thee, Puberty!  Damn thee as well,
Thou abominable herder of shame,
Will thou findeth glee by my told sarspell?
I beseech thee of ineffable name,
Rendereth thineself as quiet slain game,
For thine cruel ends be reached, let thine eyes droop,
Immortal Rite, meeteth Poetry Soup.

Forsaken specs findeth young Phillip (me),
He the first noble son born of Sir Mike,
That betrothed Diane, mother of he (me);

Neareth NASA lived they by Houston’s dike,
We plus two girl offsprings I still dislike;

Turneth back time to nineteen ninety five,
Thus now the setting as ocean, we dive.

I of ten years then plus three more years aged,
By mine mom’s woven hand rags yet adorned,
Draperies bindething spirits encaged,
Mine lot too ignorant still ‘be forlorned,
For two years would pass ‘fore Nike I yearned;

Looken now friends, at thine narrator’s dress,
Mine costumes for school were each mismatched mess.

And hath we not yet speaketh mine afro?
Then let us for humor’s saketh too laughs
For atop mine snow pale flesh did it grow!

It was beneath that nest mine brain did graphs
On one Tuesday morn; during sixth grade math,
Unbeknownst of a sneaking wretched pest:
That ineffably named prepubescent guest.

Still in present times remember I can’t,
What the hell kindled mine loins ablaze,
Yet fiery flames of embarrassment
Secretly smoldered through my brainy haze;

When mine teacher upon me called that I raise,
And thus stirred the scene I’ve oft reflected,

The moment I’ve chosen for my most embarrassing?

When in 6th grade math class I stood up…

   …fully erected


Copyright © Phillip Garcia | Year Posted 2016


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Dog's Life


Puppy

Lovable, Friendly

Frolicking. Jumping. Chewing.

Ball. Cat!  Bed. Window.

Sleeping, Pattering, Growling

Loyal, Loving

Dog


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My School My Pride

School is a place to learn and play 
Make friends, have fun and memories to stay
With lessons of life which will never be effaced
Shaping character of students for the world to face
My school St. Paul is the best of all
An model of virtues standing high and tall
It stands for values, though strict I know
But school is the place to learn them so!
Hardworking teachers are the pillars of a school
And I am lucky to have them too
We are made Physically and Mentally tough
We know Helping others is never Enough  
I am proud to be a Paulian and will be
My school my pride, I am grateful to thee.


Copyright © Arifa Bunglowala | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Teacher

Hero

Caring, Respectful

Empathetic, Kind, Loving

Purposefully Helpful

Teacher


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Elementary realism

This is a story for anyone who may have lost their way, lost someone or themselves or just need love and guidance in any form...

`I'm recovering a memory that I forgot long ago.. some parts are still vague and hard to process but I'd like to share it here especially for today, and in the best way I know how; so here goes; 

It was 5th or 6th grade English class at Greendale elementary school. We were doing some work and me and some of the other kids were getting easily distracted. Most days Mrs Branston would align the desks and chairs in sections and push them together to form a rectangle so as we sat we'd be facing each other; and that's when it happened - out of the corner of my eye I saw and heard Niall's* big voice ripping on Melissa* and it went something like this;

N: "Yo Melissa your teeth are so yellow, the suns jealous" ...
and...
"Go brush your teeth" and the one that really set Jessie off- 

"two words TIC-TAc" Melissa wasn't saying anything to this, so then without missing a beat Jessie turned around and said 
" Niall, two words, Slim-fast!" `


there are people and things that remind you of who you are and who you want to be and I am thankful for those moments just like this one. And today I happened to think of this moment in my life and although I may have hurt and stooped to his level a little bit it's sometimes necessary- I'm proud that 11/12 year old me stood up for someone who couldn't stand up for themselves.
 

**When I originally remembered and posted this story on Facebook, it was November 8th 2016, two years after my ex-boyfriends younger sister Julia had passed away. The pain was enormous and confusing and difficult.. she had her struggles but this angel's life was cut short at 20. She was the younger sister I never had.. The night before the two year anniversary I asked for strength and her family always believed  in angels so I turned to them for guidance, and I woke up the nextt day with this story. 

So the moral is go on with love and kindness; always. ** Julia knew this and reminded me of this for myself, reminded me of my old self that I was losing. I was always much happier in my elementary days, carefree, funny, kind, outgoing, honest and truthful. 

Thanks for the memories I asked for angels and thanks Juju.. now I can move on and let go, but I'll still love you for always xox, Jessie  

p.s. the asterix* symbol was used because I changed the names just to keep things anonymous for those involved.. 


Copyright © Jessica Ross | Year Posted 2016


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Think Spring

Now, unlike my usually trenchant literary librettos, i regale the unknown (tum me) reader for savoir faire articulation, elocution, and indomitable tour de force proffered by spectrum of bounteous expropriated hegemony rightful to Mother Nature. 
--------------------------------------------------------
A Place Revisited Within The Mind
(an illusory escape during dead of winter).
 
The shafts of a golden veil, spring sun at noon
break through the heavily coated
overgrowth of leafy foliage
and cause shadows spar upon forest floor.

In a field of wild
a mosaic of crystalline color
from prismatic play of sunshine
upon the silently talking heads
of the swaying stalks.

the scintillating and sparkling rays
in unison with the weft
(and warp across an invisible loom)
weaves a delicious tasting warm breeze,

(which sways the boughs of treetops to and fro,
akin to an unseen baby being cradled)
brings a ladled spate of cool freshness
from the map-cap world (webbed wide)
of a manmade existence.

The grandeur of the fallow spring meadow
a pageant of exquisite dignity
by the graceful movements
from the un-choreographed fall and rise
of the unplowed acres

eyes orbit, ear re: Canal,
and twitching nostrils of sensate beings
to the mellifluous sounds
and sweet smelling aromas
that gently teasingly assault the senses
beguiling the sight,

and lulling ears into a transcendent state.
A buoyant airy tonal plume
rises into the surrounding heights
touches the breadth of cerulean sky
and scythe lent lee gently tumbles back down
like a merry widow waltzing flowery water fall.

In quiet circumspection 
the antics sans plethora of buzzfeed ding
busily buzzing foraging insects,
which contentedly hum and alight nearby

flitting to and fro
oblivious to plaudits encore
harmoniously thriving 
within the living laboratory

of Mother Nature,
sans, Insects or Insecta are by far
count as the largest group of
hexapod invertebrates
within the arthropod phylum,

where simultaneously
underneath the earthen surface
the ground tis abustle with
glorious heart throb

of one micro universe
comprising architects, builders and weavers
engage in all manner
of natural devices for a livelihood.

This brilliant splendor tantamount
to top notch operatic performance,
a sensational visual and audiological feast
hypnotizing one humble human (me)
into an inebriated state of bliss.


Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018