the little boy who grew up
Post on 08-Mar-2016
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Table Of contents
1.Ballad Poem
2.Eternal Banishment
3.Portrait of life
4 Mirror of Truth
5.The Poor Struggling Man
6.He Used To Be
7. Tree
8. Working out
9. My Hand
10. Pseudo-Apology Poem
11.Poetry Reflection
Ballad poem
The happy rainforest laughter,
Animals having fun
The monkey jumps and falls after
The crazy times not done
Playing running rolling on hills,
Swinging on the green vines
Raining makes the forest twinkle,
Sounds like flowing wind chimes.
Eternal banishment
As the man walks further and further into the unknown,
He realizes that what he has done was wrong,
And for that he has been punished to roam the deserts of eternity.
They go on forever with no food or water, not even a single form of life,
Which with he could share even his littlest thoughts with,
But no the punishment for murder is to roam the deserts for an eternity,
With undying thirst which he wishes to quench,
But he cannot because he lives miserably.
Portrait of life
I once was a very handsome man,
But as the years passed by I noticed with my aging my portrait aged as well.
I was normal looking and was always in good health.
I never ever became sick once in my life.
The only thing that bothered me was y portrait changed whenever I changed.
I always wondered what it had to do with me and then I finally realized.
The portrait is my life if the portrait were to be destroyed then I will die.
I have survived over thousands of years the only problem is I look rotten, it’s disgusting.
The Mirror of truth
As people walk by this mirror they see what they don’t want to see.
This particular mirror shows the truth about people.
As the most beautiful lady in the whole world looked in she screamed.
She saw what she thought was going to be beauty but really was the truth
In the mirror her eyes were crooked
This meant that she did not see things for what they are but what she judged them to be
Her forehead had weird lines which meant her mind was poisoned
Her nose very small which meant she did not enjoy what she was given
Her heart very small for she had and loved nothing only her beauty,
As she stared deeply into the mirror for the few seconds she shrieked and fainted.
People then realized that she was the most beautiful lady on the outside but that meant nothing,
Because it’s what’s on the inside that counts.
The Poor Struggling Man
I sit here as the day passes by,
Playing my guitar in hopes that people like what they hear.
Some people occasionally stop and throw some money towards me,
And from that I give thanks by playing them a tune.
These are the kind people who feel sympathy for me because I’m homeless.
Others look at me with disgust and think I don’t try.
That’s why they think I’m homeless
But really I lost my family and possessions in a fire and all I have left is this guitar.
It brings me joy and money.
The guitar is also my only friend,
It’s then only thing that understands me in the world.
It speaks to me.
Thank god I have this guitar, Otherwise I would’ve been dead long ago.
He used to be
Every day he’d come home reeking of alcohol,
His hands smeared with grease and sludge from cars.He drank on the soft leather couch,
and watch the T.V.I felt confused and didn’t understand why
he changed at the end of the day
A tall and powerful man with a stubble of a beard,Everything about him shouts out powerful
He was like a climbing tree, I looked up to him,
I desired to be like him.The living room seemed to engulf me with darkness,
The T.V. on I was young behaving as a child.
I became loud and happyand felt the strike of a god on my face,
The taste of iron on my lipsHe stood over me,
A child pinned on the carpet with no escapeOne hand wrapped around my neck
I could almost see death as I gasped for airand somehow he stopped and walked away
as if nothing happened.I never saw him again,
I changed my mind about being like him.He used to be my father.
TreeShe has the wisdom of a tree, As each year passes she grows Bigger and stronger, But older.Her trunk shelters me Like it does for squirrels or birds Which make their nests in her trunk and branchesHer leaves protect meThey provide shade and stop The winds from hitting meShe fights for her independence As if another tree were fighting with her for sunlightShe is strongLike the deep roots planted into the earthShowing that she will not go anywhere without a fightShe is beautifulLike in the summer when she blossoms into nourishmentAnd in the fall when she is slowly losing her leaves she shows her true colorsShe overcomes many obstaclesLike the harsh cold winters getting worse every year Her branches point me in the right direction,And show me the right path when there is a fork in the road
She watches over me with her tall structure She can see over the whole townShe is the model of a perfect future.
Working out
With each rep I take, I fill my lungs with fresh air
I hold it in as I push or pull the heavy iron plates
With each rep I feel more powerful stronger
I then feel fatigued and winded
I rest for a short while
Then I get up again
I gulp down water
I feel the pump
Surge through
My muscles
Within my
Body, it feels
Like air squeezed
Inside of the muscle
Creating the pump
That I wished for before I entered
The gym, with each rep now I feel the muscle fibers
Tearing trying to resist the workout, I struggle because
Near the end I have no more to give, the muscle gives up
My Hand
I saw his braces and
Didn’t think my fist would
Hit them
I hit him until I knew
Until I knew he wouldn’t get up
To contest me again
My hand was bleeding
I began to think of infection and disease
So I washed my hands with the strongest cleanser I could find
The alcohol stung my wounds for seconds
I watched as the crimson red liquid flowed down my hand
I bandaged it up and knew that once it healed I would have a scar
A scar that every time I glanced or looked at it I would remember
Remember the day I did what I did to receive that marking
And then I would think did I do good or bad?
Should I have done what I did or should I have walked away?
I could only think what happened but not change it
So the marking will always signify that moment in my life
It will never be erased or forgotten because I will carry it
On my own flesh and blood forever
Pseudo-Apology Poem
Forgive me, but
I broke
Your toy
That you lent me
For a single day
You were probably
looking forward
to getting it back
but I destroyed it
You will never
Get the same joy
Ever again but
I did get that same joy
Until It exploded
With the firecracker
Reflection on poetry
I believe poetry is a great way to express your self. It’s a way to express your inner feelings.
I think it’s a way to see your soul. Poetry helps you relieve yourself from bad or good
emotions. What I find challenging about poetry is getting to what I see and feel to write. It’s
sometimes hard to just open up and write all your feelings on a paper but that’s what
poetry is expressing your self. I found out about my self that I’m a pretty jovial guy. I’m
usually always happy and I thought poetry was pointless but now I see that it’s actually
pretty enjoyable. In this poetry unit I enjoyed looking at paintings and writing poetry on
them in any point of view I felt worked. It was fun and I got to make up poetic stories. My
feelings have changed on poetry. At first I thought it was dumb and dull. Now I think poetry
is helpful because it gets things off your chest. It helps express your feelings which is
healthy and its overall pretty fun. Reading poems is pretty hard though because you have to
interpret what the poet is actually writing about and how the poet actually feels. I feel like
my working out, ballad, and he used to be poems describe me best. I feel this because my
working out poem shows how much I really enjoy exercising it’s my hobby so that’s a
pretty big part of my life. My ballad poem shows that I’m pretty jovial. I like to be a happy
person and don’t usually let things get to me. My he used to be poem lets people see that
I’m not afraid to open up and shows that I was abused when I was a kid by my father. It lets
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