This is a poem I wrote in the spur of the moment in 6th grade. LIFE
Life is like the wind,
Coming, and going,
Never predictable.
Life is like a new born flower,
Honest,
Beautiful,
Forever fragile.
Life is like a baby bird,
Dependent,
Trusting,
Trying out its new wings.
Life is a choice,
The truth,
A lie,
To hurt,
To heal,
To try,
To regret.
Life is what you make it,
Happiness,
Sadness,
Peace,
Anger,
Love,
Hatred.
Life is like a fresh squeezed orange,
Pure, sweet, a bitter sour.
Life gives,
It takes,
It is reborn.
Life is peculiar.
I'm alive,
Others aren't
But are remembered
For their work lives on,
Their bloodline continues,
And like a new flower
In the spring
They are reborn again.
Life is like the wind,
Coming, and going,
Never predictable.
Life is like a new born flower,
Honest,
Beautiful,
Forever fragile.
Life is like a baby bird,
Dependent,
Trusting,
Trying out its new wings.
Life is a choice,
The truth,
A lie,
To hurt,
To heal,
To try,
To regret.
Life is what you make it,
Happiness,
Sadness,
Peace,
Anger,
Love,
Hatred.
Life is like a fresh squeezed orange,
Pure, sweet, a bitter sour.
Life gives,
It takes,
It is reborn.
Life is peculiar.
I'm alive,
Others aren't
But are remembered
For their work lives on,
Their bloodline continues,
And like a new flower
In the spring
They are reborn again.
Okay, I have to admit that when I first read your blog I didn't believe a sixth grader wrote it. Heck, I didn't even you believe that you wrote it now. So, I searched google for a poem like yours and couldn't find a thing! Congrats on the very, very great and original poem.
ReplyDeleteThis was really good. It's deep and true. I really liked it. Great job!
ReplyDeleteThanks matt. I really did write it in sixth grade. I was bored on the computer and we had just done poems in class, and I had`recently read the right book(The Goose Girl) to get me in the right mind set. Thanks for the Congrats on my poem. It nade me feel good. I had never really thought that my poem was that good. I had always thought that it was just average. I guess the saying that the artist himself is the toughest critic is true.
ReplyDelete