A more simple time
Easier smiled through.
Could it otherwise appear?
Whose air, echoing, more clear
Freedom's shout. Friends drew.*
Daring wanderer's;
Undespaired about!
Home door, ma? Dusk-oped, received.
With nothing bought as retrieved
Pond, storm drain from out.*
* Large green spaces
* Tadpole, ball
You support a mother taking life, protect the bullies dimming lights, defend the men violating Jane Doe’s, vote for someone who make’s million’s anger grow. Yet you say “Abortion is murder,” so are the mother’s actions. Yet you say “it was selfish,” no it was a pathway to freedom. Yet you ask “what was worn?” but that Jane Doe’s life was torn while the wolves only had an assignment while she was living in fear and confinement. Yet you say “He’s making America great,” but he’s also giving the right for children that don’t fit in the standard guide to be harassed, bullied until they can't live anymore. Yet they say "children shouldn't be interesting and into politics," but Politics should NOT be into children in any way, should they? So is life unfair because you can’t get what you want? Or is it unfair because people’s pain are ignored?
I love you too
The words reach his ears as I’m already up the stairs
Out of his reach
But never out of his mind
3 years of unanswered love
3 years of loving her anyway
3 years of watching your baby girl drift away
Until tonight
By noon the next day you’re in another state
Thinking about last night
3 years but now you have your daughter back
But in another state she is pulled from class
By noon she finally asked for help
3 years of unanswered prayers
3 years of unwanted hands
3 years of staying silent
Until tonight
By dawn the police will come
Asking for her report
But she’ll be thinking about last night
3 years and now his daughter will never be back
It took 3 years of staying silent
3 years of being his perfect quiet daughter
Now when she counts the years it will start from when she could breath again
While he can count the years since he was caught
Barely old enough to walk
With rifles in their hand
The children lost in battles
They don't even understand
Hollowed eyes of horror
Toy soldiers, all must fall
Broken bodies ruined
Lined up against the wall
You find comfort in the darkness left in my wake
As the moonlight soothes your weary soul
Not too much just a gentle touch
A reminder you’re never alone
Something you could never find in me
My touch burning and unforgiving
Always too much
But that softness you always fall to once I’m gone isn’t what you think
It’s not some knight in shining armor
It’s me
A far away version where I can’t cause you harm
When my love won’t be too much
So you can sing your heart to me under a false name
And scream your curses at me by day
But I will be there to hold you under my sisters name
tee-hee, I'm here again, jus' meef
wit' dimples shining, chub-chub cheeks
yous gotsta see my two new teef
(dough dey be dwibblin' lotsa leaks)
me hasn't got no udders yet
but dese is purrfect side-by-side
dey always shiny, white and wet
(and sometimes get my tungy tied)
my bib is stain, dey make me dwizzle
fwum learnin' how to use 'em wight
and when I talk my essez wizzle
(toof fairy brung 'em late one night)
fer sher can't wait to really use 'em
cuz mama says dey shine my chin
how I gotsta bite and chew some
grow more dandies for my gwin …
oh how I wuv dese bwight new tings
and mama wuvs 'em, I can tell …
she always waffs and always sings
when I bite daddy ... make him yell!
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art created copyright-free by the author with Gemini AI / Meta AI software )
Baby tooth left under pillow
Next morning,nothing there.
Stolen,perhaps by a toothless Fairy.
Who Are You?
You want to be heard,
But not by yourself.
Then again,
Your loudness becomes silence to my ears,
The words left meaningless.
And I wonder,
Do you think of what you say? Perhaps not,
For your voice speaks of its own intent.
Your voice is not your own,
Your mouth at the mercy of harmful words that no longer belong to you.
Neither, are your thoughts truly your own.
And they are left in mind,
Warping everything they come into contact with.
It seems you have surrendered,
Your body not at your control,
Your spirit connected only by fraying threads.
Even your emotions have gotten rid of their old master.
You are not you,
The you that has been before
Or the you that is now:
The madman of unbalance,
Of uncontrollable rage,
Of confusion.
Gracious growth of our child charms us always
Daily delighting our hearts for triumphant track
Along faith's flight upon striving steps
midst milestones --- prompted, propelled and propped by God
we welcome despite hardship's harm
toward lively leaping of zestful zeal
nurtured, nourished as valued victory.*
*But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
September 27, 2026
1st place, "Alliterisen" Verse Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May; judged on 9/29/2026
My childhood was both sour and sweet,
Sour because I lived with two mothers who were immiscible liquids,
Sour because of sibling conflict and strife,
Sweet because my brother and I enjoyed the company of communal friends.
Growing up on Apple Avenue was a memorable experience,
There was a large field at one end,
It housed a public school,
There were vendors on the field who sold indigenous confections,
My brother and I were their loyal customers,
There was a tree on the field that barely had leaves even during the rainy season,
We were told different mystical tales about the tree.
The highlight of one of the evenings was a bicycle race,
Chopper versus BMX,
The race was about which bike was faster,
In the maiden race, my brother was a few metres ahead,
The Chopper rider committed a foul,
He collided with the rear wheel of my brother’s bicycle,
My brother’s bicycle tumbled and he sustained injuries,
It resulted in a fight between rival groups.
The bicycle race was on hold for a long time.
September 25, 2026.
The past carried so much normalcy that it was deemed boring.
I remember the smile that I left with you and the stars that shone only in your eyes.
The present now carries a lift that you thought made things easier.
But you continue to run.
You have run the biggest race of your life, driven by a mind you never chose to have in the first place.
I met a child in the past, and I can remember him by his smile.
The man standing before me is still smiling, but he often wonders what the point of it all is.
Sometimes it feels like I am dealing with two different people.
The man keeps trying to convince me that he isn't that different from the mind I knew.
Oh and I believe him. Not just because he wants me to, but because I know the man he became is one that was born out of the desperation to survive whatever this whole cycle is.
The present gave him steps, noises, and countless clicks that satisfied only an urge.
As he tries to silence the noises and then continues to tell me about his world, which is now new to me,
He will click click click until everything becomes okay again.....
I gained my sanity.
And lost my family.
They can't understand
Where or who I am
Why I begin and when I end
The price is paid
Sour taste? No.
Just serenity. It may look
like insanity,
but is not.
I am.
I am in love.
I'm with God.
Inadequate;
The word resonates with sickening intensity
All through my life I've had to be my own advocate
I've battled for myself with staggering immensity
The clashing of swords, the beating of drums,
I fight for myself despite the outcomes
I'm withered and weary, battle-worn and aching
I throw down my arms, finally forsaking
But I get right back up despite my depression
I knock down my foes now in quick succession
The war rages on, heartbreakingly perpetual
How much can I bear? My defeat is eventual
One day, I will be knocked down,
And as I rest on the earth, on the cold bloodied ground,
I'll smile in my defeat,
Because now my demons have finally been beat.
I am a daughter.
I am a wife.
I am a mother.
Yes, I am a woman—
the creator of life,
the one who gives birth to an entire generation.
But beyond these relationships,
do I have an identity of my own?
As a daughter, I am expected to sacrifice.
As a wife, I am expected to compromise.
As a mother, I am expected to give endlessly.
Everyone sees the relationships I carry,
but who sees the woman behind those relationships?
Why must my identity always begin with
“someone’s daughter,”
“someone’s wife,”
or “someone’s mother”?
I was not born merely to fulfil roles.
I was born to live, to dream, to choose,
and to create an identity of my own.
It is time for women to step beyond the boundaries
that society has created for them.
Let us recognise our own worth,
raise our voices,
follow our dreams,
and build our own identity.
I am a woman.
I am not someone’s shadow.
I am an identity in my own right.
And now, it is time for every woman to say:
“Know me not only by the relationships I carry,
but by the person I am.”
Around the North Carolina’s red clay
Flue-cured tobacco grown it grows
Seemingly towed bow down, do as I say
Flue-cured tobacco grown it grows
Not as I do, I am older than you
I smoke if you try to smoke you choke
Cough, cough, cough this isn’t a joke
Beneath the views, I choose for I do
Puff away, cough you say,
Burn this not such a puff-puff away
Nor give-give awaiting to inhale
Boy, back N my day you have,
a cigarette in a child’s age
You’ll spend a day in jail
Flue-cured tobacco grown it grows well
Seemingly towed bow down, do as I say
Flue-cured tobacco grown it grows bails
Not as I do, I am older than you
Beneath the views, I choose for I do
I smoke if you try to smoke you choke
Cough, cough, cough this isn’t a joke
Puff, puff, puff cough, cough
Them children should N be smokiN
puff-PUFF-puff
Child Categories
Read wonderful child poetry on the following sub-topics:
beautiful, educate, family, father, funny, halloween, life, love, lyric, monster, mother, parents, scary, song, toys
and more.
Definition | What is Child in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
Related Poetry Forms
adolescent, baby, brat, children, infant, innocent, juvenile, kid, kiddie, kids, minor, newborn, nursery rhymes, offspring, preteen, teen, teenager, teenybopper, toddler, whippersnapper, youngster, youth