Kids Metaphor Poems | Examples
These Kids Metaphor poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Kids. These are the best examples of Metaphor Kids poems written by international poets.
i sit behind the bodega counter,
breath trapped in wax and soft flicker
watch the old men tap pockets
for lotto dreams and loose change faith.
they light me when the landlord knocks too hard,
when the roaches dance too bold,
when the rent feels like a knife under the door.
i swallow the prayers like chiclets
sweet for a second, gone before dawn.
abuela calls my name over simmering beans,
tells the kids hush, hush, he listening
like i’m some holy wire tapped
straight to god’s ear.
i ain’t no miracle, mija.
i’m just borrowed light
a warm lie to keep the dark outside the door.
i hear the gossip slip under mattresses
baby jesus under titi carmen’s springs,
rats chewing faith at the corners.
i smell the cigar smoke floating up
promise carried in every puff,
sin curled soft in the ashtray.
still, i burn.
still, i stand watch
over scratched lotto slips,
over prayers paid in quarters,
over soft curses when the numbers don’t hit.
i ain’t no savior.
i’m just a borrowed saint,
a Harlem hush, a flicker in the dark
holding your secrets safe
‘til morning comes knocking.
Let me rest,
For now I am tired of these quests.
What prize for me awaits?
Those hollow salutes and opened gates?
Or those meretricious praise that would echo,
When all I remember is catastrophic derecho?
Or the Olympus you promise with Canephor,
While all I yearn is peaceful plains and zephyr.
Or the victory parades in Roma you were storytelling,
While those 23 backstabs in my mind are dwelling.
Or those meadows habited with Nymphs?
While all I yearn is a solitary pond hazed by mist.
Or those kingdoms you promised of evergreen reign?
While all I yearn is the slow pit patter from canopy rains.
All you promise is a conquest full of allure and shine.
But what will you tell to those kids mourning and crafting shrines?
So let me walk away to where savannah's sway,
As I am exhausted of this reaper's haunting play.
So now let me rest, as I am haunted and tired of these quests.
Let me breathe where laws of nature weave,
Solitary where I can grieve.
Let’s not make a scene—
not in front of the metaphor-curious.
We owe them a semblance
of shared syllabic stability.
You take Tuesdays,
I’ll keep weekends and the enjambments.
Let’s split the metaphors equitably—
you keep flame, I’ll keep ash.
No one touches liminal.
I’ll speak highly of your similes
at open mic,
nod with gentle gravitas
when they ask if we’re
still...collaborating.
We’ll stage polite reposts,
perhaps a comment or two—
Stunning work! Your voice is missed!
Even though our voices
are on everything. Loudly.
We’ll give them what they crave:
poised poets
posing as lovers
in the filtered light
of someone’s Instagram story.
Not because it’s true—
God, no.
But because some of the haiku kids
just found their footing,
and I won’t be the one
to shake their form.
POND QUEEN
Ducks may rule the pond,
but there's a lily pad throne
where a queen frog sits.
while rock-throwing kids scare ducks,
the frog queen quietly sits there:-
Planes streaking the skies...
Waving trees blinking the sun...
Kids soar paper planes...
Life's a deck of cards, fate’s unsteady hand,
And I hold the joker, at life's command.
For every joy, a shadow falls,
A dance of highs, and sudden stalls.
One moment I'm laughing, a heart full of glee,
Next, I'm crying, despair captures me.
Happiness fleeting, sadness its twin,
A battle within, where to begin?
Depression’s grip, a slowing tide,
Time crawls, and shadows hide.
In my mind, it digs so deep,
Thoughts entwined, no restful sleep.
Would life be easier if I were gone?
An empty void where memories drawn.
How can they love, when inside I'm lost,
A shipwreck in waiting, not yet tossed?
I see their smiles, their endless grace,
My kids, step-kids, partner’s embrace.
Why do I deserve their light and love?
They're the stars, the moon above.
They keep my heart ticking, steady and true,
But I fear my shadows dampen their view.
I wish I were well, to run, to play,
To laugh with them, in a carefree way.
So here I stand, the joker in hand,
Balancing life on shifting sand.
But know this, my love holds strong,
For them, I fight, where I belong.
lost words are wolves hunting
heat from the herd, raw desire
one day less alone
American prom night
youth-swept hair moussed down in place
cigarettes light, poof
there goes Mary's lamb
water pail swings from her jaw
blind to the boil ahead
it begins like a bath
soft as the sun's seduction
quiet as a rack
back window fogs up
fingers paint shapes on car's cave
condensing moments
it was kilning day
he, my substitute art teacher
ersatz guardian
photos of his kids
near the hearth of his grandma's
basement fireplace
I was a student
thirteen is an innocence
despite the heated clay
Sandro knew his kind,
let's call him Terry Carter
because that's his name
- the mirror shows time of age
... the truth gives a bitter taste - Quote by the poet
They said she ate children and
the kids in the street called her the witch
She can't bear to look at herself in the mirror
stopped participating in social events
The body was aged and dappled
suspicious moles examined
it was cancer
A photograph hangs on the wall
she was radiantly pretty
- as in a fairy tale
A long time ago
The Donkey of Destiny
The party was set, the guests were invited,
The adults were happy, the kids all excited.
All going to plan; the hosts were delighted,
Then the Donkey of Destiny brayed – he-haw!
The Donkey of Destiny brayed.
The Board of Directors set forth their campaign,
To conquer their industry, supremely reign,
To guarantee ultimate financial gain,
Til the Donkey of Destiny brayed – he-haw!
The Donkey of Destiny brayed.
Military leaders made their decision,
Troops were deployed with painstaking precision.
Soon they would realise their tactical vision,
Then the Donkey of Destiny brayed – he-haw!
The Donkey of Destiny brayed.
To amuse the young children, a day out was planned,
Buckets and spades and sunshine and sand.
Ice-cream and fish-and-chips; seaside brass band,
But the Donkey of Destiny brayed – he-haw!
The Donkey of Destiny brayed.
There’s nothing as fickle as Destiny’s Donkey,
Capricious as weather, and sly as a monkey,
Be certain that everyone’s hopes will turn funky,
When the Donkey of Destiny brays – he-haw!
When the Donkey of Destiny brays.
screams erupt in the morning
kids running everywhere
bee hive party
I miss the me before my hope was stolen in broad day light
Sadness impressed it's will on my mind
Making my mind sick
So, to all the kids "take your vitamins"
My mind doesn't feel like mines
I have a couple of time trackers that I try to race from time to time
Feeling like I just can't find the energy to simply live a normal life
My mind is often moving too fast for my body
I feel like a nobody when I'm around everybody
Knowing it's not true
Mind tricks have me thinking maybe my time is coming to an end
Telling myself you know that's not you
It's your shadow
The dark side trying to finish you
My shadow is my best friend that I never wanted to meet
A constant battle
I wish I could cut my shadow off
But I can't get rid of it without killing myself
You need the dark side, past, and future in order to grow
It may not be a part of the life you want to show
But the show must go on
And then I receive the count down
On in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...
Hello vengeance let's kill my depression
p.s. the shadows only cool me down now, I won't let the darkness take over...
So sick & tired of being pulled every which way but right
my chest continues to hurt, my breathing breaks and cracks, this pain ain't light.
Stuck between what could maybe be,
And what was once just recently.
Not knowing, where to turn or even who to trust
this is all so overwhelming- I may just bust!
It's all headache inducing
and the only positive side, is all the rhymes I been producing.
It's confusing. It's annoying. It all freaking hurts.
And really. I just want, my kids, they come first.
How can I move forward- if I'm literally stuck, still, and stagnant.
How can I go day after day
And not fall aback, towards that way?
How can I 'get out of my own way'
when the path, the way to lean
is all but that clear
and could maybe be- not as it may seem?
Is this for real?
Or all just a sad, nightmarish freaking dream.
Pressure from the job and roof over your head
Pressure from the kids cause they won’t go to bed
Pressure in traffic on your way to work
Wreck up ahead hope no one is hurt
Pressure from the dentist drilling your tooth
That hit a nerve back to my roots
Pressure from the tears there in your eyes
Oh… it’s a wonder…. but you did survive
All the pressure
All the strife
That lump coal ……….
Has a polished life
The park moving
with the kids playing there
the pleasant chat coming back
chair back to the balcony
the cult of renewed faith
without any agony
rediscover parish
reign joy again
renew the antique rites
visit friends
So be post-pandemic life...
living the world without strife !
Only the children and the pure
realize what is to live...
The pure does not live in the shadows
kids does not frame bombs...
The pure realizes the future
guarding innocence
from when they were kids...
Children deserves the future
with no scares and no villainy
So let's save the purity
to deserve the dignity
of the pure and of children
let's learn to live
for God sake!