Best Teenlife Poems


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.

The Black Sheep

Pushed aside, location of home obscured, limited by isolation:
drifting aimlessly - subscribing to a voluntary incarceration.

Outcast by an alternative perspective, a differing sense of direction,
through a desire to develop resolutions to numerable imperfections.

Others recede into bad habits - shirking from every challenge,
placing emphasis on ignoring responsibilities; yet expecting a life that’s lavish.

So it’s hardly surprising when their dreams fall by the wayside,
having taken the easy road too often, they’re fighting against a landslide
to recuperate what was lost, or rather thrown away by being lax and care-free,
they’ve imposed upon themselves a limit, as to what they can achieve.

Armed with the powerful weapon of fore-sight, I clawed myself out of the rut,
but it’s little consolation for having to watch my friends get stuck.
Trying to avoid a patronising tone, I conceal myself into anonymity -
uninspired by foolish games, approaching every overture with timidity.

Wanting to tell them to change, to realise their mistakes,
but sometimes things are hardest to see when they stare you in the face.
It’s their life to live, and do so how they wish -
I just pray they realise: there’s more to it then “getting pissed”.
© Lee Price  Create an image from this poem.

The Only Way

A life of pain and mistaken thoughts
Afew sliced veins a kid mistaught
A kids mistrust
His soul in tatters
To his wrist this razor was thrust
His dreams shattered
A life of lies
A kid misunderstood
His unheard cries
Wanting nothing but to cause some good
Sitting alone
Thinking of his past
His future unknown
For this day will be his last
Wanting only for this pain to be gone
Suicide, the only way he knows how
So he knows this dawn
It will be over now, all over
He grabs his blade
Holds it to his wrist
His life betrayed
Longing to feel its final kiss
He screams
Blood starting to gush
It was just like his dreams
Such a rush
He smiles knowing
The pain is over now
His blood if flowing
It was the only way he knew how


If I Had the Guts

I know i have kept a lot from you.
I know its not fair. 
I know i should tell you.
I know i have to tell you.

Maybe i can tell you some, but not all.
Maybe i can keep it secret just a little longer.
Maybe i can hide it from you more.
Maybe i can get the guts to tell you everything.

Everyday, i wanna tell you.
Everyday, i hope i get the guts to tell you.
Everyday, i feel bad for not telling you.
Everyday i think about you.

Sometimes, i dont want to tell you.
Sometimes, i just want you to know it all.
Sometimes, i wish i never knew you.
Sometimes, i wish you were all mine.

If i had the guts, i would tell you everything.
If i had the guts, i would tell you how much you mean to me.
If i had the guts, i would tell you your the only reason im alive.
If i had the guts, i would tell you my biggest secret.

Just knowing that i love you.
Just knowing that you may or may not love me back.
Just knowing that i care.
Just knowing that you probably dont.

Breaks my heart.
Breaks my soul.
Breaks my dreams.
Breaks my life.

If i had you, my life would be complete.
If i had you, my life would be perfect.
If i had you, i would be happy.
If i had you, i wouldnt have to search anymore.

I know i should tell you.
I know its not fair.
I know i have kept a lot from you.
I know i should tell you.

But, i dont have the guts, 
The guts to tell you i love you,
The guts to tell you your the reason im alive,
The guts to tell you,
I need you in my life.

The Game of Life

Life is like a game of sport,
Where skills can get you by.
Goals are the targets to aim for,
But sometimes direction is
Too wide or too high.
Yet you continue playing the game.
As you learn by your mistakes.
You feel good whenever
You score the points,
Grateful when given the breaks.
Sometimes the crowd is with you.
Sometimes you stand alone,
But aware of who is the linesman
Responsibility for action your own....
Life is about achievement,
Yet disappointments and failure too
Are also part of its' structure,
Though its' playing is down to you.
You can accept life has its' mishaps
With courage to see them through.
And make your targets clear and straight
When in your power to do,
Or you can give up without even trying
Any of the challenges life passes to you.....
You have the potential to be a winner
By using all the skills you possess,
And if you trust in life and value yourself
As a person you'll be a success...
Life's pitch is laid out before you.
Run the course with your head and your heart,
But remember what matters
Is not winning or losing
But how each plays their given part.
So make sure to give it your very best shot
Making your aims honest and true.
And try to have faith in the rest of the team,
Then Life will be a Winner for you.

I wrote this for our Godson when he was a teenager
He was and still is into football..

Jessica

Jessica

The atmosphere in the basement was thick,
The party was so intense you could not even think.

Everyone was dancing, drinking and having fun.
This was basically everyone, all except one.

Her name was Jessica, she was only sixteen.
She had sneaked out of her house just to be seen.

Jessica was a smart and pretty girl, but her self esteem was low  
She was sitting at the party, watching everyone dance and put on a show.. 

Along came a guy, he told her if she wanted to get out of there.
She hesitated at the offer, but let the pressure get the best of her.

They went outside; he talked to her like no guy had ever before
He looked in her eyes asking for something much more.

They went to his car for the sole intention of talking, 
But he tried to kiss her with out even stopping.

She felt dizzy and slug, you see the drink he had gave her 
Had contained some type of tranquillizing drug

That night he had raped her over and over, 
With no type of Mercy until he had gotten sober.

She woke up naked covered in blood,
Screaming and screaming with all her might
Only to discover that that guy she barely knew was nowhere in sight.

A month passed and she was still scared, 
Only because a guy had gone way too far.
 
Feeling pain she began to worry, running to the hospital in a hurry.
Jessica was told to be infected, as the doctor diagnosed her with HIV, 
She felt like her life would no longer be.

This was the story of a girl, who deserved so much better, 
But to her it seemed like life was eternally out to get her.


(part 2 of 2) Where the Sky Is Black, and the Cold Wind Blows...

A new chance has blossomed
Til the police pull up
She ain't feelin' too awesome
And her mind is made up

Chance to confess
To drop to her knees
But she's under all this stress
And she runs with the breeze

With a click and a blast
She screams her last breath
Chance for redemption at last
But she still chose death

Not a single angel sings
As she walks up to the gate
She wonders if she'll get wings
Or if damnation is her fate

Sex, Drugs, and Crime have one goal
And messing with that could cost you your soul

All the mourners stand back 
As she's buried with a rose
Where the sky is black
And the cold wind blows...

So if life hands you trouble
You have to think twice
Or you could die bleeding in the rubbel
Payin' your high price

You could have a knife pulled on you
Or a bullet in the head
But we all know one thing is true
You could end up dead

You better remember this girl
All the s*** she went through
Don't let your life unfurl
Or your soul could be due

Life comes with pain
And life comes with tears
But don't hop on that train
To run away from your fears

Remember this crazy train
Is on a rickety track
And once you enter the wrong lane
There ain't no turnin' back

I know this 'cause I've walked on the path
I held this girls hand in the dreams I once had
Now I stand back looking at the aftermath
I'm lucky I lived, but it's hard to say I didn't like doin' the bad

Sex, Drugs, and Crime have one goal
And messing with that could cost you your soul

One of these days you might need to think back
To this little girl's last night of woe
Where the sky is black
And the cold wind blows...
© Alex Brown  Create an image from this poem.

Complicated Love

My life is so complicated,
It feels as if I'm neither loved nor appreciated.
This feeling I have inside of me, 
it burns...

To imagine the touch of his soft skin against mine,
It's like I'm running back and forth through time,
'Cause it's never gonna happen again...

To hear his voice whispering in my ear,
It would be as if I'm reliving that one special year...

I'll never forget the words he said to me...

"I Love You, Baby"...

It makes me cry, even thinking of it now,
As if I'm gonna die and won't remember how...

The feelings I have for him will remain the same,
Even though it makes me feel stupid and insane...

I'd give my life for him,
I'd just lay it on the line, 

I'd give my life for him,
To let him know the heart that he'll always have is mine

Just to show him...how much I...care...

Last Wishes

Tap, Tap, Tap!
Carla’s pen keeps hitting the table,
As she writes her final thoughts.

She attempts to explain to her mother,
How it wasn’t her fault.
She tried so hard,
To raise her right.
It wasn’t her fault,
That her daughters life crumbled,
Right before her eyes.
It wasn’t her fault,
That she didn’t know.
How could she?
Her daughter hid it so well.

She finishes the note,
And signs with her best wishes.
Wishes that her mother would be ok,
Wishes that she could see, 
It had nothing to do with her,
Wishes that everyone could just forget.
Forget about her!

“I Love You”,
Carla adds at the end.
Three simple words, 
That would be carved in her mothers mind.
Not for a week,
Not even for a month,
But until the day she dies.

Carla gets up.
Walks over to her dresser, 
Leaving the note behind.
Reaches into the top drawer,
And pulls out a gun.
Her hands are trembling,
Lips quivering,
Knees beginning to give way.
Slowly making her way to the bed,
She crawls under the covers.

Places the barrel of the gun,
Against her temple.
Her pointer finger,
Lingering over  the trigger.
She pulls it in,
And nothing.
No pain,
No bang,
No death, 
Nothing!
She must have left a bullet out,
While she quickly loaded the gun.
Now realizing, 
What she is doing.
Tears come flowing out of her eyes,
Like a salt-water waterfall.
She’s sobbing now,
Good thing no ones home.

Placing her finger back on the trigger,
She pulls one last time.
It hit her,
Like a rock thrown through a window.
Her skull shattered,
Her tears stopped

It was over,
Over and done with!
She was gone!
No worries left to think about,
No life left to care about!
Yet she was still sad.

Killing herself,
Had not given her the satisfaction,
She so dearly desired.
It felt like another bullet hit her,
As she discovered this would haunt her.
Haunt her for all eternity,
In the after-life.

The moment she pulled the trigger,
The sorrow she felt,
Would never leave.
It would play over and over,
In her mind.
Her soul could never rest,
After what she did.

Dieing was not at all what she hoped was her Last Wish!

The Person Benath.

There is a boy inside and under he lies, A certain person and a certain face, a wouderd grin 
across this place, He lies and he fries in the midst of the dark, He try's he try's but no light to 
shut out this mark. Whoever we think he is, he takes into pain, and silent at night cry's in 
vain. For hes lost and lonely and needs a freind, But its our lazy selves that wont allow to 
offend, Who he is and what he does, Countless minutes were strapping the cause. Of what 
this kid is and what he will say, Minutes and hours and seconds waste away. He gives up in 
sorrow no hope he seeks, for forever and ever noone willl hear him weap. We sat there and 
sat there thinking poor little boy, But we played this sick game by treating him like a toy. A 
person benath is much deeper then love, A person inside is consumed with dark love. A 
person inside hides their true feelings to not show pain, A real person that looks through 
others eyes can see even through rain. This person that lies and stares at the sky, is aware 
of the starangers and things passing by. Everyday we count our blessings and say, Dear god 
thankyou foreverything and yur blessd ways. But what we cant see fully is ourselves 
devotionally or awake this dream fantasy of fiction or what we call truth, This heart we 
encounter may never lie under our vains, or take away our sorow or  tears that encourage 
pains. This voteing question why cant we be ourselves around everyone on the earth, 
because we were raised and taught a certain way at birth. For our mothers and fathers 
created who we are inside, so theres no shame in hideing youreself or Letting this person 
outside, Be the one who lives Youre life through, And lives life fully and spent, But most 
importantly lives life as you.

Tears of a Runaway

Tears of a Runaway

Blinded by these tears;
Choking on my useless words;
Heart racing like a horse;
Lungs gasping for air.

I long for that happiness
That I once felt.
Instead, painful memories
Are coming back to hurt me.

Running away
Sounded like a good solution,
Even though I may trip and fall.
I'll just keep on running, 'til I can't run at all.

I trip and completely fall down,
But I don't get up this time.
I’m just lying on the ground, now,
Crying ‘til I can’t cry anymore…tears.

Blinded by these tears;
Choking on my useless words;
Heart racing like a horse;
Lungs gasping for air.

I don’t know what to do now.
I’m just paralyzed on the ground;
Except that I’m also shaking
From all the crying that I’m doing.

Running away
Wish I could say
That I would stay.
But, God, just please help me?

The coldness is wrapping around me
Like it’s a frozen blanket.
Trapped in this cold, cold world
And in my mind, memories swirled.

Blinded by these tears;
Choking on my useless words;
Heart racing like a horse;
Lungs gasping for air.
As I lie here,
I wonder
What it would be like
If my life was happier.

I can’t really say for sure
What would be going on.
But if my life was happier,
I wouldn’t be singing this song.

I once felt that warmth and comfort,
But now it’s gone.
And it’s been so long
That everything in my life now is wrong.

I’m blinded by these tears;
Still choking on my useless words;
My heart still racing like a horse;
My lungs still gasping for air.

These are the tears of a...runaway

A Dark Hidden Comfort

For my life that is not beyond repair,
I flee to a place where I become lost,
But am thankful to it.

I cannot be found,
Nor do I want to be found.

I slip away willingly
Into the dark hidden comfort of obscurity
To the point of where I am almost 
Consumed by a dark force similar to death.

Death is easy, but life is hard,
So I tend to keep to myself
As so on one knows i'm gone.

The Death of my life Drains my Soul as
I Bleed from my Heart, pouring out into
The Deep Beyond of the Universe.

The dark hidden comfort acting as
A blanket of safety, even if it sounds morbid.

Premium Member Untreatable and Fatal Illness

At the age of thirteen, life is carefree
Time to become all that one can be
Life stopped for you; cut off at the knees
Being told very harshly about Huntington's Disease

At the age of thirteen, life is carefree
Ball games, skating, spelling bees
Being told very harshly about Huntington's Disease
The look of grief on your face and the weeping

Ball games, skating, spelling bees
Life stopped for you; cut off at the knees
The look of grief on your face and weeping;
At the age of thirteen, life is carefree

Life of a Hurt Family

What life holds for a loved one out there,
Who choose the life of the dark streets,
Instead of living here,
What she has choose didnt make the two ends meet.
My beloved little sister choose the addiction of drugs,
And my mother and I sit in agony wondering when god will save her from the devils work,
We miss a part of a family wishing we can give her a hug,
We put all the pain and worry in the hands of the Lord.
We pray that he gets her off the streets in a safe way,
While she's out there throwing herself out there for the men to make money,
We pray we can hold that little girl we once knew again some day,
And be able to know we have that girl back and seeing she is as sweet as honey.
Not have a loved one use and steal off of us,
Just to know the streets won't kill my sister first,
All we can do know is have faith and trust,
All of this right now is just a curse.
We recieve a phone call one night,
The police arrested her for robbery,
We finally see the light,
My sister sitting in the jail house wishing she could win the lottery.
God answered our prayers,its better then the death of a family member,
Today I thank him and always will for saving her from the dark path she was heading to,
I'm glad that her life won't hither,
My sister would have killed herself and the unborn two.

.in This Life I Bleed.

.In this life I bleed tears.
.In this life I bleed.
.In this I bleed hatred.
.In this life I bleed.
.In this life I bleed lust.
.In this life bleed.
.In this life i bleed fear.
.In this life bleed.
.In this life I bleed love.
.In this life bleed.
.In this life I bleed courage.
.In this life bleed.
.In this life I bleed envy.
.In this life bleed.
.In this life I bleed blood.
>In this life I die<

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter