Teenage

Poetry Zone is nice
Poetry Zone is perfect
Poetry Zone is too much
Be happy that you have it
It helps with English

Shimmery feathers that the owl holds they have a
Never-ending feel
Of snowy, pearl like
Wintry, magic.
Yet the snowy

Owl has a fierce side
When
Looking for its prey!

Christmas tree, sparkling bright
Filled with baubles, warpath and light
Precious symbol of our affection
For Christmas time and it’s perfection
show each night your radiant glory
For “oohs” and “aahs” obligatory

The tempting gifts are tantalizing,
About opening them, we are fantasizing,
The holiday foods are appetizing,
Our excitement and joy are growing,
Our heart and mind are harmonizing
Jolly Christmas fun we are maximizing

As the sun settles down after a long day’s end
And the sky fills with stars,
I lie on the damp, green, grass watching it from afar.
The sun glows on the horizon like a pool of silk smooth honey,
And the occasional star appears as if on a journey,
And the moon – it just sits there watching over me,
Gleaming, shining, beaming, as bright as it could ever be.
I just watch the elegance of the moon rising,
I watch it glow and shine,
I watch as it stands out amongst the stars,
the moon – showing its inner beauty.

We are orphans and fatherless,

our mothers are as widows,

our inheritance is turned to strangers,

our houses to aliens…

We have drunk our water for money,

our wood is sold unto us,

we get our bread in peril of our lives,

we labour and have no rest!

When you stare at the zebra-like pages
And drown yourself in words
Running from dreary walls of the cages
You’re allowed to soar with the birds

And I get lost inside worlds within words
Where the grey roads don’t exist; each path is new
Where it’s okay to be a black sheep in the herds
Where change is condoned; sad endings so few

Reality checks in again when I’m done
It’s made me better; it’s made me strong
Because reading provides perspective; it’s not all games and fun
And it helps me bring balance; choose what’s right and wrong

I am Mr Stink
I’m smellier than you think
I smell so bad I have no friends
but for me stinky never ends

I am Mr Stink!

A thin veil of mist shrouds the path from sight
We stumble and wander along, half blind
Slow dreary steps are taken; darkness takes over the night
We cower behind each other; afraid of what we will find

As the fog clears and the haze of blurriness disappears
We find that we ahve lost our way
Trudging through a forest; no path that is clear
We find that there is more than one way to life

Deep down in that cave,
So quiet, so knave,
A lone torch in my hand,
I’m digging my grave.
The mobs start to growl,
The creeper’s hiss, the skeleton’s crack,
I’m starting to think I should maybe go back.

The words I speak, resonate off key
From my thoughts and dreams
The seeds I sowed haven’t grown onto trees
The passionate fires I had are now merely steam

I want the rhythm to be perfect
I want the seed to be in good hands and health
Those who create, I do want to dissect
And I wish to attain eternal wealth

Yet I struggle with the start
No fiery passion or valour drives my pen to write
It takes all my willpower and heart
To barely scratch, let alone get right