Poems

Is it the way I walk
Or how I talk,
How I look
Or what’s in my notebook?
On this planet
Leaks sadness in a blanket
We’re always judged
Or even nudged
Is it the clothes I wear
How I style my hair
Are my teeth not straight?
Sure, I’m no saint
D’you think it’s low self-esteem
Or will I never be supreme?
Am I not skinny enough
As fat as a cream puff
Is it ‘cos I bite my nails?
All these honest tales
I’m not yet done
I’m not even fun
I look into the mirror
But there’s no glimmer
Just me staring back
Is it beauty I lack?
Are my feet too long
Were they shaped wrong
Am I just a nerd?
Really, it’s inferred
Why couldn’t God give me the gift
The gift to give my reputation a lift
Perfection’s what I need
So I can transform from this weed
Sometimes I wonder
Then after I ponder
Is anyone perfect?
Well yes, it’s beauty they collect
God made me
Shaped me
Formed me
Into this human I am
But really I have my own glam
Everyone Is perfect
That’s why you should never neglect
Everyone’s perfect just as they are.
So, am I perfect, well yes I am.

I lean down
An ant is crawling.
Here and there,
There and here.
It goes.
It does not know
That a spider’s web is near.
It turns to its left,
Walks a little
And it is stuck.
It is helpless.
For it, it
Is the same as
Being dead.
The spider has noticed
That an ant has got caught.
The spider is crawling downwards.
I think
Should I break the spider’s web?
Well, a house can
Be built again.
But life cannot be brought back.
But why should I give such a burden
To the spider?
Well, it’s okay, the spider can
Build the house again.
But I am too late.
The spider’s mouth
Touches the ant’s head.
And the spider has eaten
The ant’s head.
It continues to eat the ant.
Well, now there’s no point
In breaking the web.
Because the ant has already
Been killed.
So I get up and walk away,
Respecting the beauty of nature.

I sit by the road,
But I am always being ignored.
I always ask for something,
But I get nothing.

Will this slum never change?
Before I die?
Will I get a chance,
To see my chidren,
With a better future.

I feel so dull,
I see the birds,
Who fly away,
I see small girls,
Who go to school.

My home is so smelly,
And so unclean,
And full of dust,
Everything is rotten and rust.

I have nothing to eat,
Nothing new to wear,
And nowhere to go.

When will my life change
Into a luxurious life?
But living as a poor man is better,
For if I am rich,
I shall be greedy for more and more,
and shall never be satisfied

Every man shall not be satisfied for ever,
For life is not a bed of roses
But of thorns!!

Cupcakes are sweet
Cupcakes are fluffy
Melt in your mouth
Oh so yummy
Icing on top
Choc chips within
What a nice treat in my cake tin!
Yum!

As you sleep the monster is there, hiding right under your very own bed,
he sits there quietly, as quiet as a mouse,
waiting for a moment to raid your house!
He has prickles on his back, right down from his neck,
he has big black eyes, and a beak that can peck,
his giant furry feet can cover a head,
I wonder why he likes it under a bed?
He likes to eat cheese and eggs a lot,
he also likes to break most pots,
it’s always at twelve when he gets up,
to scoff down all of the food that’s been left out.
It’s usually stale old bread or manky cheese,
he peels all of the rotten stuff off with ease,
after he’s finished he goes back to under your bed,
then the monster rests his head,
till the next night, when he raids again!