Sharing poems!


LDSgirl
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Katie

Petter patter, petter patter, petter patter.

from the window, the sound did come.

High upon my lofty dresser perch,

I could see people scurrying to and fro,

but nary a drop of water,

will touch my soft and shinny fur coat!

For I am high and dry,

resting upon my castle throne!

Clicky clack, clicky clack, clicky clack,

I glance across the room and watch,

as Jenni types on her computer.

First to Erin, then to Alyse, Amber, Hayley and Rachel too!

Clicky clack, clicky clack, clicky clack,

now she's on to Eric, Lizzy, Kevin. Mary_Lynn and Casey too!

Clicky clack, clicky clack, clicky clack,

on and on she goes,

without a moments rest!

But as for me,

I'm quite content,

to lay around each day,

and yawn, and scratch, and stretch!

Who I'm I you ask?

I'm Jenni's pampered kitty cat, of course!

MEOW for now,

chow, chow!

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  • 3 weeks later...

The Captain of a Lifetime

We stand berreaved upon the dock

While ships embark for home

To distant ports not viewed by us

We are left alone

Approching new horizons

Ship and Captain fade away

He encounters new beginnings

And the dawn of a new day

The Captain of a lifetime

Disappears, or so it seems

His destiny awaiting

Where life is more serene

His Mother's crying, waiting

She's vigilled through the night

Upon a far more distant shore

She beacons with a light

Death is but a sleeping

He'll awake once more

We'll then see his horizon

As just another shore

Our separation's not for long

A fact amidst life's travels

We were merely left behind

As eternity unravels.

GDW

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  • 2 weeks later...

Great poems, guys! :)

Here's one of my more recent ones...

The Hermit Crab and the Snake

Lost in the clear deep puddle

that engulfs my eyes

I can't think to rise and do.

I've slowed much

I've slowed

I've let the silk-thin water take over.

Parched throat, pressured head.

slowing movement

less cares

increasing nostalgia

location difficulties

artificiality

and rubber arms.

Feeling reclusive

Feeling nocturnal

Feeling wasted

Feeling spent

Feeling useless

Keeping a few positive outlooks,

and a couple days hold good things, at least.

Distraction in blankness.

Excitement in friendship.

Missing binds.

Indecisively continuing.

Simply bored .

Easily lightened...

Paneled floors don't make me sick.

Ruling classes leave aces in their sleeves.

Organization can go both ways, or more.

Ghastly silhouettes make me nervous.

Reeling various types of hopes to the shore.

Entering into a library of failed attempts that

Softly whisper...

Softly whisper...

Drinking to a world unknown.

Eating amongst the orange leaves.

Attempting to shelter from the cold.

Trying to row against the breeze.

Holding on to things you somehow managed not to forget.

Drifting confused with wandering eyes.

Entering an unlocked door.

Initially scared, and unexpecting.

Figuring out how things fall into place.

Interconnecting with distant sentient.

Elected, selected, inspected, corrected.

Drinking to a hypnotizing pitch of sound.

The black crystal isn't clear.

The mist is here.

The deafened ear.

What the heck?

Sinking in.

Descending to a stalemate.

Checkmate, you win.

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  • 2 months later...

very visual, u can picture in your mind whats going on. This is one I read 4 Y.W. in excellence.

ROADS

"Where am I going,

Which path do I take?

I need to decide,

I have a choice to make.

One path is dark,

The other is light.

It should be easy,

But it's a fight.

The dark would be easier

A path to go down;

But I know if I did,

I'd turn back around"

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  • 8 months later...

Here's one I wrote to remember the children whose parents had killed them:

Ode to Caylee Anthoney

My name is Caylee

I'm not even three

All I want

Is for mommy to like me

Mommy never wanted a child

Tried giving me away

Grandma wanted me to stay

I never thought it would end this way

Last night mommy grabbed me

Made me pass out

Duct taped my mouth

So i wouldn't cry out

Dragged my to the woods

In a trash bag

I couldn't help but wonder

Am I really that bad?

My name is Caylee

I'm not even three

And last night

Mommy killed me

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  • 3 weeks later...

Here's one I wrote to remember the children whose parents had killed them:

Ode to Caylee Anthoney

My name is Caylee

I'm not even three

All I want

Is for mommy to like me

Mommy never wanted a child

Tried giving me away

Grandma wanted me to stay

I never thought it would end this way

Last night mommy grabbed me

Made me pass out

Duct taped my mouth

So i wouldn't cry out

Dragged my to the woods

In a trash bag

I couldn't help but wonder

Am I really that bad?

My name is Caylee

I'm not even three

And last night

Mommy killed me

this broke my heart

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 9 months later...

Here's a poem based off of a memory that's been haunting me:



I saw you once so long ago

Your long hair seemed to flow

Your voice told me “it’s alright”

Oh how I wish I could better remember that night

You never thought I was strange or weird

Even though death I feared

Would take me prematurely

But hazy is my memory

Of the whole time we were there

Haven’t I suffered my share

Of not knowing who you are

Where you friend or foe

Angel or demon

Family or friend

Will my suffering ever end?

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heres a few i wrote

Voices

Voices

Voices surround me,

Embracing the deformity in

Speech. I listen.

Learn, and prefect my own.

Languages not understandable.

People stuttering. Slurring.

Imperfections.

Must be a perfect voice,

A calm, smooth sound

A mixture of the clomp of clogs

And the ringing of bells.

My voice. Unique

and i wrote this for school

The Lord

When I was younger my parents and leaders told me you loved

me. They said you were an example

of what I should try to be like. They said you would help

me if I prayed.

They said you would guide

me through my life. They said you would be an inspiration.

Although I didn’t know it exactly what inspiration

meant, I knew you loved

me. You showed me that through your guidance.

Your guidance came through promptings. You were an example,

to me. I would picture you in a situation, whatever action you took I took. I learned to pray

for things. Most of the things I prayed for then were small. Now mostly I pray for help.

Help for simple things like answers and what to say. Help

for inspiration for ideas, and you came through you always did when I really needed you. You were inspiring

I also prayed for people. For those in need of comfort and well being. I prayed

to you that they would feel your love

like I did. I prayed that I could be an example,

like you. You showed me your guidance.

You helped me to make right choices through your guidance

But often I didn’t heed your words. Even then you helped

me by being an example.

You were my inspiration

you showed your love to me through your actions because of that I had known you loved

me. You gave me loving parents who taught me good, of you. You gave me loving parents who prayed.

I heard them once praying.

They prayed for guidance

for me. They prayed I would know they loved

me. They asked for help

in raising me, for inspiration

on how they could be an example.

They were and are an example.

They taught me to pray.

They taught me that you could inspire

me. They showed me how they could guide.

People when they really needed help.

They showed me you loved me.

You are an example and inspiration

to me. I pray to you in faith because I knew that you would help

me when i needed you. You guided me often because of this I know your love.

And this....

The Wishing Well

Everyday I dip my dreams in The Wishing Well.

Hoping, that maybe someday they’ll come true.

Aspiring that someday I might make it somewhere.

Dreaming of the future. Longing for something more.

I leave that Wishing Well never to come back again

I surround myself with seeking for my dreams, my future

Instead of dipping my dreams in The Wishing Well.

Hoping, dreaming and wanting things; all useless when you don’t create it yourself.

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While everyones poems are of a serious nature, I'm going to post my very first poem I ever wrote when I was in 6th grade. Here goes because I can still remember it. Let's just say it was a very long time ago.

I have a little dachsund

He is fun and cute

He always chases badgers

Which makes him run and scoot

He has a very pointed nose

And funny floppy ears

He always tries to sit and pose

Then everybody cheers.

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While everyones poems are of a serious nature, I'm going to post my very first poem I ever wrote when I was in 6th grade. Here goes because I can still remember it. Let's just say it was a very long time ago.

I have a little dachsund

He is fun and cute

He always chases badgers

Which makes him run and scoot

He has a very pointed nose

And funny floppy ears

He always tries to sit and pose

Then everybody cheers.

oh gosh pam this is awesome!!!! i might ask to steal it sometime and put on a picture of stretch, if it's okay with you?

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