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Two Poems from our Teen Poetry Collection

 
 
SUNSETS AND TRAGEDIES.
   
Author: Missy Knott
   
Poem:
SUNSETS AND TRAGEDIES.
   
  She was today, with her rough skin and dying eyes. He was tomorrow, with his green eyes and soft hair. They were running lost and scared in a parallel universe. No direction, no destination. Completely confused about everything. But they were certain of one thing, it was love. They erased themselves to find it was them and no one else. They were nothing, they were gone. Everyone was silenced. They could see each other. They could hear each other but not with their eyes and ears. Someday the moon will hide behind the mountains and sneak a peek at the nonentity in love. The stars will dance and shine, wilder and brighter than that laughter hidden underground.

She sits and wonders how far into the distance his eyes are staring. And he sits and wonders how she's doing, if she's okay without him (because he cares and doesn't mean to). Although the distance between them isn't far, she still can't find ways to go to him to tell him she still needs him, after all these years. And he sits and waits for her to come, just so he knows someone out there is thinking about him. She was hurting; he was alone. Her eyes covered him like the stars. His hands were what she missed most. And as long as he sits across the room, she watches him and continues to love. She'll never tell a soul because some things are made for groups, somethings are made for a couple and some things are made for one person. And he was made for her, and he couldn't face it, and she wouldn't let him.

She sits uneasy. Shes completely removed from him. She'd love to collide with his bedroom window. It would be tragic for him to know how much it hurts her to be so much in love with him. And he wants to keep telling her all the things that she used to know but has probably forgotton. And he finds the pictures and videos of them playing in his bed, and he'll never erase them. He knows nothing is going to be the same. Seperate worlds, sunsets and ultimate tragedies. Fields of golds and greens. Trees that are a home, a playground and a love mark for someone's memory. For them secrets will remain secrets without eachother's arms.
   
  More Teen poems
 
 
HAND LANGUAGE
   
Author: Simone Lassiter
   
Poem: HAND LANGUAGE
   

Hand Language--It's my way of expressing
The words that I choose to be spoken.
They always seem to get broken.
Hand Language--It's my way of speaking.
My voice-- It lays here in this ink pen;
It wants to get out. It's fighting to get out.
But who. Who will listen when I speak?
Nobody. Not even will these hollow walls listen when I start to weep.
This is my hand language.
It's strong. Its the way I feel.
Hand Language--
Its my way of expression.
My way of speaking,
It's strongly the way that I feel,and that is why
I choose to keep it so real.

 
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