Young Poems

4:09:05

4:09:05
A familiar time which plays on repeat in my mind
Get the opposite of high, but I don’t know why
Cutting pounds but not just my weight
I’m not trying to over-exaggerate
But I think it’s time to say goodbye.

Being alone isn’t the same as feeling it
I just wanna stop, I just wanna quit

They say all it takes is

Eating Disorders, Young Boys and Girls

The glass has teeth—
it bites at dawn,
gnawing away what flesh I thought was mine.

A rib is a rung to heaven,
but the ladder never ends.
Numbers bloom red on the bathroom scale,
they hum like insects in the skull.

I am a mannequin—
wire shoulders, hollow eyes,
a smile stitched with needles.

Children bruise themselves
against invisible rulers.
They carve equations into skin:
less, less,

Young Enough to Cry

Please don't barter with the gold in my heart,

Don't make me swallow the salt in my tears.

If you're looking for someone to rip apart,

Pick someone else ripe, in their younger years.


For Heaven sakes and all the Saints above,

Like the band, "Triumph," sings from clouds on high.

Maybe too old to get hurt in love, Baby,

But, I'm

Too Young To Die

So long ago
It was a far different world
It was safe to be a child
You could attend school 
Go to your church
Or just play outside
You would feel perfectly safe
No one decided when it was time to die
Now you cannot do these things
Not without worrying if you would get home
It is a sad world when there are

High School Girls

Love didn’t follow you from junior high,
It lingered in corners like and made you sigh,
Your eyes sought faces, but none remained,
Only silence where your laughter reigned.

The halls are long, the lockers gray,
You walk alone through the first day,
Your broken mirrors—your beating heart,
Like ocean waves that drift apart.

Outside the windows, the branches lean,
Bushes and trees filled

Young Widow

I’ve sold winter coldness to those who’re huge in their chests oncorners of these abandoned streets, where bars aren’t happy with myfootprints in front of every door. Where I hit myself at close range. Where I pay a price to win no game. However, she’s worked all her lifeto bring up all her children within

Inner Child

You're never too old
to be young
at heart
even Freud was Jung
from the very start
altho' childbirth
is a labour of love
it's all in the swing
of things
and to about-face
child discipline
is strictly a case
of heir conditioning

Death of a Young King

Eight of the strongest and bravest of warriors were gathered in all
Each chosen for their strength, each the same in weight and in tall

Their task was not an easy one there to carry home their dead King
The priests follow on thereafter with their mourning bells doth ring

The King had lead them all into battle, a

TRIADE 1 Old Young Man

The old young man has had a dream 
Of how he had traveled far.
I wouldn't say he was in the past 
When he found himself in place.

Was that afar as far as the far 
If the life had shown him more,
As well as far and afar from far 
And the Cuban Missile Crisis was also

Heartbroken By Young Love --POTD

I feel your unrehearsed pauses--
the rustle of a blue shirt in leaving
a tangy ache your firm lips make,
holding back  cold, collected words.

This rendezvous ... a slow-fire quiver
an  ending which has it's own interment;
and outside, night wrestles with time
brittle dew against my eyes, dry mouth
licking an estranged bite that reminds me
of your frivolity .

Young and gullible

There are a lot of myths we have been told

Like at the end of a rainbow there's a pot of gold.

Things I was told turned out to be lies

Like if you watch to much television you will get square eyes.

If you eat the crust of the bread you will
Get curly hair.

Don't look to long at

The Young

whistles blare
gun powder in the air
lead pours overhead
I can't wait to feel my bed

I line up my rifle 
breathe and squeeze
my orders are to strife
I run empty so I freeze

the quit nights are haunted
this conflict was unwanted
one more tally added; I can't mask it
make sure they spell it right on my casket

Redemption

How do I prove my state of mind,
When time has passed and closed behind—
The doors of cells and courtroom days,
Still echoing in quiet ways.

I cry at scenes the world forgets,
Where mercy meets with no regrets—
Where men in chains find stars at night,
And wrong is tempered into right.

The Green Mile's steps, the final chair,
Still haunt me

Young Angel

                      Oh dear young angel
               Why do you frown at my eyes?
        

When I was Young

When I was young I had my health
Nothing hurt
I did not need arthritis pills
I could walk without pain
I wish I had danced and skipped and hopped more
while I still could

• Short Young Poems
• Famous Young Poems
• Best Young Poems
• Read Young Poems
• Long Young Poems
• Young Quotes