Home » Poems » Best » Shanda Braxton » Best Shanda Braxton Poems

Best Poems Written by Shanda Braxton

Below are the all-time best Shanda Braxton poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Shanda Braxton Poem

O, Fairy Godmother

I know it is your job
To please the young children,
And orphans and maids.
To grant their wishes and hope they will behave.
I know you must fly around this way and that.
To help out all the kids, whatever they need.
But I will just say that your daughter is here,
Looking out of a window upon a small star,
Wondering when her mother will return
And grant her daughter’s wish.
I wish for you to be with me
For longer than an hour.
But I know you have work to do
Helping the other children, and women.
I just wish I had a Fairy God Mother too.

Details | Shanda Braxton Poem

Zucchini and Squash

Once two of my least favorite veggies in the world,
I realized just how quickly life can change on you
Through the course of time
How sudden the impact it can have as you grow.
I hated Zucchini; I used to cry when I saw my mom cut it into a bowl.
As she added the Squash and threw it on the pan to have it sautéed,
I’d beg her to make potatoes instead.
But she’d ignore me and dump the yellow and green mess on my plate.
I would refuse to eat it, cry as she stuffed it in my mouth
Spoonful, by spoonful.
A gruesome flavor I thought it to be.
A taste of watered down cucumbers
Swam in my mouth.
I’d cry and choke it down
Over and over again.
Two years later, I get a change of heart.
One day, I carefully taste my plate full of sautéed Zucchini and Squash.
The flavors begin to blend together.
A harmony of seasonings dance on my taste buds,
Exotic spices swimming in my mouth.
My eyes widen as the new taste 
Gets to me, and I shout,
“Oh Lord! I’ve been missing so much!”
From that day on, the food is my favorite.
I never complain about it being on my plate.
Kind to think of it, I don’t complain at all.

Details | Shanda Braxton Poem

Anxiety-Footle

She's here.......
..............have fear

Details | Shanda Braxton Poem

In the Night Garden

On the calm, quiet sleepy sea, there lies a boat
Among the horizon.
The night sky is lit up by the crater filled harvest moon.
Each star twinkles awake
Like an eye opening to a fresh morning sun.
The calm waters carry the boat downstream,
Over smooth hills and timid waves,
Closer to the line that separates sea from sky.
Each star, now fully awake
Blooms open into a white lily,
Welcoming the boat in a plethora of scents.
The boat soars through the sea of white,
A clearing forms into a field of green.
The lilies are replaced with green grasses, thick red woods
And various species of flowers.
The boat has landed safely to paradise.

Details | Shanda Braxton Poem

Sapphire Marbles

“These could make for a fortune”
I thought as I happened upon two
Perfectly shaped blue spheres on the ground.
They twinkled like the surface of a lake
Giving off an ethereal essence.
As I picked them up I could feel that 
The sun had warmed them well.
“Yes, I will sell these,”
“If they are truly made of what I think they are,”
Then I shall definitely get paid handsomely. 
Off I went to a Pawn Shop, to see how much they were worth.
“Not much,” The man said behind the desk.
“Maybe at least a quarter or so,”
I was infuriated. How could that be so?
They’re so wonderful!
I argued with him for a bit, but he kept to his word.
“They’re useless, that have no value,”
He left me to think.
But surely they had to have some.
You don’t just find two gems laying in the grass every day.
When I go home, I put them on my desk,
Along with the many other gifts from earth 
That have been rejected for lacking value.
I lay own on my bed and think to myself
“Maybe, I’ll find something valuable tomorrow.”

Details | Shanda Braxton Poem

Amateur

Poorly written words
are etched onto a raggedy 
sheet of paper.

They form into an ugly paragraph
unable to be deciphered 
by anyone older than five.


Finished up and turned in
to the teacher
where she smiles and honors it.

Injected confidence swells inside
an amateur mind
Plastic thoughts

Forming in the brain.
Positive thoughts of riches and fame
Childish dreams, impossible goals.

The smog of thought clouds
the mind, makes it blind to the errors
the writing is made of.

Said writing is submitted to clearer eyes.
They judge with brute force
Stern frowns scarred on their lips.

Rejection comes in a heart beat.

Details | Shanda Braxton Poem

A Poem From a Nervous Girl

The end of school is only four days away
A heart pounds against skeletal bars
Shivering in anticipation of graduating 
However the host of this heart 
Looks around at her environment 
Seeing everyone as malicious
Yet smiling at them and sharing 
The excitement
But dying from insecurity inside
The heart flutters in her chest
Registering her nerves
And begins to beat quicker 
Soon to break down the bars
And beat free

Details | Shanda Braxton Poem

How I Feel Right Now

Expecting good things
Not getting any results
Feel like a failure.

Details | Shanda Braxton Poem

Perfect Girl

Went to learn
Went to school
Got all A's
Got great things
Found a college
Found some friends
We all applied
We all got in
Continued school
Continued life
Lost a job
Lost control
Grew afraid
Grew anxious
Locked myself away
Locked my hobbies
Up again
Up all day
Plucking hair
Plucking away fear
Applied for a job
Applied again
Didn't get accepted
Didn't get in
Deep breath
Deep moans
Run away
Run on home
Hid for a while
Hid from life
Escaped the truth
Escaped from strife
Suppose I'll come back
Suppose I'll try again
Maybe tomorrow
Maybe give in
Seemingly perfect
Seemingly fair
Life is strict 
Life is square.
Try one more time
Try for myself
Urged on by family
Urged on in want of wealth
Completely unchanged
Completely stagnant
Tears leave stains
Tears evaporated
Perfect child
Perfect flaws
Child...
Flaws...

Details | Shanda Braxton Poem

My Little Slice of Heaven

Some people would call it immature
But I do not care what they say.
In my room I have a shelf full of dolls
In which I play with all day.
These dolls are antiques too precious to touch
Some collectors would say. But I don’t care, 
Not too much
Because these dolls take me away.
Whenever I am sad, I go to the shelf
I pick up a doll
I look at myself.
I take a picture
Put her down
Brush her hair
Fix up her gown.
When I think I am done
Having fun
I put her away and what can I say?
Some people would call it immature
But I do not care what they say.
Did I mention I have a shelf full of dolls?
In which I play with all day?