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Teen Poetry #6
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don't know what to call this- any ideas welcome
| Teen Poetry #6 |
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don't know what to call this- any ideas welcome |
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heart_of_ice Junior Member
since 2003-02-18
Posts 14England |
She collapses in the doorway Her wraith-like frame Trembling as a leaf in the icy wind Pulls her threadbare coat around her In a vain attempt to keep out the cold. She watches the passing crowds Through an invisible barrier Filtering out the sound. Watches the children laughing, playing Remembers the time when she was, like them Carefree. Sees the parents, hand in hand, Smiling at the joy of their young ones And the knowledge that all’s right with the world, Their semi-detached, four bedroomed, secure little world From which they survey the rest of the planet Through a 16 inch screen, And frown at the stories of teenage mothers And drug addicts And prostitution Featured on the news, Safe in the knowledge that they are immune. She sighs, remembering how she had, Once, been a part of all that, how she used to Belong, With her middle class family In a quiet suburb, And her public school, Linking arms with friends, Sharing confidences of boys And sex And whispered gossip About which teacher was sleeping with whom And how, when they found out about her, They turned in the corridors As if she was contagious. She remembers her parents, Loving, doting on their precious baby girl. Her father, with his prominent, well-paid job. An asset to the community. All a façade To hide his ‘little problem’ Of the bottles under his bed. And her mother, Caring, generous, devout Christian, Staying home all day to look after the house And her children. Admired by everyone for her charity work, Appearing at functions To raise money for war-torn countries. A beautiful mask to hide her scars And elegant long sleeves to cover the bruises Where she “fell down the stairs”. She watches a young couple pass, Too engrossed in each other To pay heed to their surroundings. She remembers how once she was in love, Or thought she was. How he bought her chocolates and roses And wooed her with romantic poems And loving words And how he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. She huddles further into the corner Providing little protection from the bitter night Cradles her stomach Which, despite her lack of sustenance, Continues to swell, Symbolic of a youth that is not her own. She watches the children dancing in the snow, No older than herself. A single tear courses down her cheek, Lamenting innocence lost too soon. ~i don't think i like this very much, i guess that's why i haven't thought of a title. Scribbled it down one night last winter watching the kids in the park~ |
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| © Copyright 2003 Fae Cook - All Rights Reserved | |||
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SimpleDiscourse Member
since 2003-04-24
Posts 79 |
i liked this alot. very powerful. very nice. |
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A.L Member
since 2003-03-15
Posts 131 |
this is such a great poem, it makes so much sense and i like it alot...i wouldnt know what to name it, maybe "lost youth" or something with innocence?? im not sure...but i do like it, its reality all summed up looking back on the life that she knew and the life she lives now..well written! |
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blueyedlioness Member
since 2003-04-24
Posts 289USA |
You write a lot like somebody else I know... Hm. Nice job - you put free verse together really well. |
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FlyingCloud Member
since 2003-04-28
Posts 151A little place inside my head |
One title I thought of as I was reading this, was 'Invisible' or something along those lines... This hit me really close...I think I better go now. ^~Whoever does not love his work cannot hope that it will please others.~^ |
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heart_of_ice Junior Member
since 2003-02-18
Posts 14England |
"she" would be me, just in case anyone wondered. Thanks for the replies |
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