Children's Poems | Modern Poems for Children

I was born in absence— not just of a father, but of the myth of one. Raised by silence, I searched for manhood in shadows and wounds. My name is Oedipus rewritten— not in fate, but in affection never given. My sister wears men like seasons, because no one taught her what protection felt like. A home is soul-architecture: a mother to nurture, a father to protect. Remove one— the child...

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If you want to go far in life Reduce your circle The people you share your dreams with It's not about numbers, but loyalty Make a long table, helping others So you can be stable When ever you're not capable So you'll be able, to get where you want to be. If you want to be Liked by people Start...

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There are two vital gifts we can give our children… two important things…. The first would be to give them roots… the second would be wings. The roots we give them grow out of love and acceptance… and knowing, when needed, you will always be nearby… Their wings they get when we help them believe in themselves and give them confidence to...

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Every tribe, a savior That's why we have Different religion Every person, a choice That's why everyone Has who they endowed. Every time or season Someone is risen Base on some reasons To liberate his or her people So they don't live in bondages Suffering from past ancestral mistakes. If you don't wake up You'll always initiate Break ups Because...

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Autumn leaves fall slow a child's questions left hanging in digital silence. My fingers trace letters that will not hold still b becomes d was becomes saw help becomes nothing. The maple outside my bedroom window drops one red leaf, then another, marking time the old way. Mom's phone buzzes: Car arriving in 3 minutes Pizza en route Package delivered. But no alert sounds for the moment understanding slips away from me. No GPS tracks the distance between what I know and what I need to...

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There used to be a time I can still remember when but times have changed they're not the same we have to roll the rock turn back the clock things are going wrong something's gone astray the streets are yours and mine let's make them safe for kids to play the good old days do you still remember then those days are...

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Every forty-five minutes, thirty children vanish— not into memory, but into blood and rubble. The soil of Gaza drinks the tears of mothers, while those in power sip wine behind closed doors. This is not war. It is business— and crime is its most profitable currency. Why should we entrust justice to those who profit from injustice? Why should we plead with architects...

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Romance, a thing of the past a shame it didn’t last Kids’ constant crises did it in Envious of other retirees rekindling their old flames while...

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If intent and actions are cause and effect and influence the future what you give is what you get and yet what about children caught in the crossfire when very young murdered in man's mire they have not yet begun to live and love is all they have to give so much for karma symbolised by the lotus flower but whereabouts is it in their most needed hour forsaken by fortune they...

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Who takes brain hits diabolic? The child of an alcoholic! With the mind’s botox Pain’s now in a box Not flummoxed the kid can frolic ...

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They dressed me up in tinsel and lametta I recall stood me in a corner not as a wallflower I was the belle of the ball but now my needles shedding the moment I've been dreading limp lonely forgotten neglected not long before I'm ejected and two weeks later here am I a sad and sorry sight to behold enough to make one cry discarded by the...

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May we be blessed as parents… when our children look at us they see… the type of person throughout their life.. whom they would like to be. ...

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Every picture I’ve seen of you as a child, You wear your hair in plaits. A stern middle parting and two dark brown braids Falling down on each shoulder. A maypole’s dream. You would do your best to wash them when you could, When shampoo was available, Or even in the single, small bathroom. You would vigorously scrub your face too With...

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Coocoo doodle I do, Not every day I coo, What Mum can do, I can – My skin needs a sun tan. My hair with homemade curls, My makeup shines like pearls. I'm just a baby, see, Acting adult, maybe. Bring napkins for wee-wee, Ensure fun flows for free. Tie me nappies for poo. And bandage my boo-boo. Baby guys will whistle, Love – their own epistle. While I...

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Matsuo Basho: English translations of Haiku about winter, cold, rain, rains, frost, frosts, snow, snowflakes, wind, children, childhood, hail, hail stones, winter life. Mushroom-gathering, rushing to beat cold evening rains. —Matsuo Basho, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Ceremonious hailstones assail my hinoki hat. —Matsuo Basho, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Caught hatless in a winter shower? So it goes. —Matsuo Basho, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch How...

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