Hey Pandas, Post A Poem That You've Written (Closed)

" When the stage is set,
And my role is cast....
Shall I dance with my demons,
Before the ghosts of my past...
Till the last curtain falls,
and the spotlight goes dark...
The theatre is empty,
I'm alone at last....."

Here's the first and last stanza of my poem Growing Pains:

When I was four, I used to think that I could fly //

By flapping my arms once, twice in the endless blue sky // to

fly higher above the soft carpet of clouds // and

meet the shining planes and never come down

All too soon I’ll turn fourteen and // I think that I might be afraid of heights

Who would want to fly that high when // the higher you go the more you fall

Down through clouds and blue sky that can’t support my extra weight //

And I might just fall //into the engine of a gleaming white plane.

There's more stuff in the middle but I don't like it that much. It's not that good and I appreciate feedback, but please don't be too harsh I've not written many poems before this one.

When you came you were so small
I feared we might break you
They worried you would be still
And we meet your contrarian spirit

I put a vase by your bed
With willow painted glass
You stared up, and tried to reach
But you could never quite reach the shelf

If you got the chance you took it
Caught you on the verge so many times
You looked up as I tried to scold you
Laughed with soft eyes

You always such happy eyes
Squeezed up blue when good things came
How could you find so much to grin?

When we took you to be proven safe
They told us where the story would end
You reached the vase that day
And it shattered by your bed

It’s sitting on top of the fridge
Shards passed hope of peace
I see you play without a care
And feel my heart break

The years bleed into days
I count off your remaining pages
Waving from the school bus window
I pickup the doctors phone
The news rips out more pages

Your not a babe i now realize
You hear the things from behind the door
How can you keep such a smile
When you know such a burning thing?

You know you cannot run anymore
Extra sleep is no coincidence
You must stay behind the others now
How can you keep so bright a grin?

The story is coming to its end
I tried to ignore the shrinking page count
The mocking in voices
I failed to keep you safe
Seeing them take you away

Your sitting in your bed
Hooked up to wires and tubes
I can see “fin” written up ahead
Your strain to keep open eyes
yet still you hold a smile

Your hands so small to squeeze
So broken, so wrong to see
When the green die first it breaks me most
Like a china vase filled with old hope

Dressed in black, soul breaths slow
Wet, heavy clouds paint lungs and eyes
Stiff smiles, seems the same
The house is cold but nothing has changed
I take the vase from off the shelf

The more the tears dry, the more my eyes burn
They walk by with no concern
Others like me, the ones who hadn't failed
They tell me to quit holding broken glass, pour out instead wails
But I clutch it tighter, numb to pain

Some young ones ask why I ever had such a thing
If I knew that it would break
Why I would risk it on a fragile thing
Get attached when it was too late

I see how they have room to grow
Haven't seen the beauty in the pain
As I glue a vase back together
With a smile on my face

Child, your room is still now
but I can hear echoed laughs
Smudges from your hands are on the glass
And sitting on the windowsill, not quite as perfect faced
A handful of your poppies, in that cracked vase

POETRY POST!! Here's a poem that has been written by me and me myself and i (another panda- the poster of this post, actually- not me). She wrote the second stanza of this. Ten thousand thanks to her

POETRY POST!! Here's a poem that has been written by me and me myself and i (another panda- the poster of this post, actually- not me). She wrote the second stanza of this. Ten thousand thanks to her