Shadows: A Poem

Shadows

They say

shadows

are evil

Clearly they

have never 

met one

in the desert

Poetry Dump

So I was away at a respite home for a few days because my mom said I needed a break. I didn't think so, but I went anyway because she said so, and it wasn't horrible. I had a good time, and I wrote a whole bunch of poetry, which I will share.... Now.

Fourteen
I'm not the little girl I was
Or the big girl you hoped I'd be
I'll take your orders humbly
Do my best to lend a hand
'cause I know you'll do the same
I'll hug you tight
Kiss you good night
'cause I know you love me too
But don't ask me to be happy
talking politics and wine
my bears are waiting
back at home
and I can't be late for tea
Don't ask me to play tickle
on the night of the big dance
my makeup isn't perfect
and my date is running late
But most of all don't tell me
"Grow up"
or that I am too small.
'cause I'm fourteen and that is just
the way I want to be


Plain Jane
I don't heart JB
I don't play JV
My socks are different colors
And my hair looks like my brother's
The other girls don't see me
Unless I trip over their feet
And then they tell me, "Watch it, freak!"
I don't shop at the GAP
Sometimes I need a nap
I'm the plainest Jane in town.
But that's not all, so stick around,
'Cause my story's pretty neat
It started on a day when I was feeling pretty beat.
I sung a song, and I begun,
To see that I was special
I could brighten someone's day
with nothing but a smile.
I could help around the house
and take the garbage out.
And maybe it's a small difference,
but I'll choose it any day
over being plain old Jane.


Home
Home is when you race to the door
to hug your dad hello
Home is when you're sad,
and your mommy holds your hand
Home is when your sister barges in
and tells you that she's bored
Home is when the dog won't move,
and you ask her to get up
but she only speaks
in pleading puppy-eyes
Home is when I ask Dad about his day
and his eyes light up
Home is baking cookies
because-- cookies
Home is when you read
lying on your desk,
with your dog on your chest
Home is gushing to my dad about my writing,
who cares only because it's me talking
Home is when you sing as loud as you want,
even when people are listening (and you're  really shy)
because you're
happy

This is all poetry I wrote at one in the morning, so it's a little stupid, but I wanted to share it because-- you know this is a writing blog, and this is writing, so...

Imma Write Some Poetry. Because-- Poetry

I promised myself I'd limit myself to one post a day, but I'm really bored, so Imma write some poetry because I'm in the mood for it.

Dream
The sky is blue
Not grey
Why?
Am I free?
I can see a thousand colors
Reflecting from the lashes of my eyes,
They sing songs of joy

I see the green of the grass
The blades blur together
Like water

I feel heat.
Finally, heat.
The warmth touches my soul
my skin glows
I'm alive again

My eyes open
the sky is grey
the walls are grey
the floor is grey
I am a prisoner once again


So, whaddya think? Pretty terrible, right? I'm a horrible poet. Tell me in a comment how I can make this better.