Under Age Poems - Poems about Under Age

The illusion  In a small park ringed by gloomy trees near where the factories used to be, was the bust of a man on a splint made of bronze, a mesen, she liked to use words like that in a desperate world of poverty, tinned sardines  in olive oil and mackerel in tomato sauce The Mesen who owned the factories...

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Putting my best foot forward shoulder to the wheel nose to the grindstone my Achilles heel while sticking my neck out I soon found as with my eye on the ball ear to the ground when I put my back into it not with tongue in cheek but to keep my chin up heard joints creak the onset of old age memory loss an early taste for in the end...

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The  Necktie He woke up fully dressed, minus his tie, in the lumpy bed of a third-rate hotel, which had a fridge beside the TV The last semi-civilized place, one up from sleeping rough  The room reeked of depravity, and a dusty curtain  protecting the inhabitants from the cruel world outside The news was about a woman who strngled with a...

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It's with something as heavy as death or light as silence Time going on leaving us behind ignoring our presence Unless you give your voice no one knows your alive In a world where no one cares you'll be left deprived People will miss you but how would know if don't connect Not connecting is like resting...

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We, the Children of the Atom; Whose quantum physics master the balance of past and future. We remember before and after, and master both of them with hands enslaved by petty policy and impractical allegiance to multiplying thieves. Imagine what we shall do in the autonomy of freedom. The old world is to be gone. Its path is...

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We never walked down the isle in africa we never do when pocket light so we sat on plastic seats in the heat the tent tried and died in the steam sweat, hopes and hot tea We never walked down the isle but jus one job was to be in love , in respect, in you till...

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Those we love don't go away. They walk beside us every day, but one morning sun's gentle ray says things are not the same. Yes, I can remember when I first touched her in November. Now, it's just a dying ember, a memory of love's flame. I wonder, did she, my life, complete? These memories fly by so fleet, and can you please...

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So many days have passed Too many to count Not that I would want to know But the thing to remember The more days behind me The fewer there are ahead But I’m not afraid of that last day Maybe I will spend that day drinking Or I may find another way to be in trouble I can be sure of one thing: I...

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Oddballs in New York The strange people who want to live until they are 200 years old and, if possible, forever.  Needless to say, these people are also rich I saw the leader of the odd people, who tells us He goes to bed at eight and rises at five shift workers to have a similar routine, not they wish to be...

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I Heard My Name. I heard the vastness speak my name. It told of troubled days. In my eagerness to be here, I agreed without delay. Bursting through the veil, I came to live this life. Knowing that it held my days of pain and strife. Choosing my own path. With lessons to be learned. I come to this, my grateful heart for that which...

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My PTSD is here within me. Tries to control my mind. Tries to dictate what I find. My PTSD lives here with me. Can control some actions and thoughts. Bilateral movements ground my defence to its calls. My PTSD creates vivid memories which lock me into dark spaces alone. I have to act when the triggers...

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The tryer in short bursts, the quiet expresses  a need to communicate about work done but not published Self-critical, raked with doubts  with no connection to the world of publishing  Offer from publishers is that he will pay them, is like paying for sex; it leaves behind self-disgust, this unbecoming need to see one's words in print The hard part is to admit to the lack of...

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Summer and a dog Pure sunlight on a forever blue sky beaches full of laughing people and Happy Holiday, by Cliff Richard Out of the sun glare came a cur an emaciated dog that had walked and walked for many miles to reach a goal, finding the way home Under a bush, it collapsed, and I gave her water, found food for her, yes,...

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E very parent nurtures, through laughter and tears, M aking dreams bloom across fleeting years. P rotecting their young from a world unknown, T eaching life's lessons in a loving tone. Y et, in time, their children will chart their course, N ewly embarked, driven by life's force. E ntering realms that were once untold, S...

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was it really that big of a deal if we were both just kids our minds snapped shut like lids brainwashed by whats bad and good too scared to come out with the truth nothing ever came smooth these thoughts these anxieties they only get worse i needed someone to soothe me im just a little girl please stop touching me like that i dont like it im...

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