Poem Project :3

Notes On The Art Of Poetry

Dylan Thomas

I could never have dreamt that there were such goings-on
in the world between the covers of books,
such sandstorms and ice blasts of words,,,
such staggering peace, such enormous laughter,
such and so many blinding bright lights,, ,
splashing all over the pages
in a million bits and pieces
all of which were words, words, words,
and each of which were alive forever
in its own delight and glory and oddity and light

The Tremendous Change Of Life

The innocence and softness,
portrayed in the eyes of her sweet face.
She is the one people hold,
and fuss over.
Constatly keeping her in their arms.

She is oblivious to the world around her,
and her only care is what she has been taught.
She doesn't feel the pain,
lingering in the abyss.
It's what she will get hit with,
but not yet..,


She's getting older,
and the changes of her world begin.
She cares about school and friends.
Not knowing they will not even look at her,
in the years to come.

She's even older now,
and she begins to feel this pain.
The pain that eveyone tried,
to shelter her from.
She doesn't know what's coming.

She walks around thinking about the past,
and who she was before.
The changes have made things hard.
An her simple life is filled,
with absolute chaos.

The innocence has fadded now.
All everyone sees is the lables,
that seem to be written,
across her forehead.

What happened to her?
She is lost in the sea of people.
Her grasp on life is slipping,
and soon won't even be hers.

She's old enough to realize,
that she can't even be herself.
The satisfaction of the world is,
no longer there.



 

One a Memory, Not Always a Memory

Once a Memory, Not Always a Memory

By:Hailee Baez

Laying in the massive bed.

The slippery sheets are her comfort.

The voices in her ears,

Follow her as she attempts to turn over.

Why does she always get so lost?

Her clammy skin does not feel,

The dreams that are gone.

The silkiness no longer covers the pain.

Her fragile bones don’t shield,

The icy gap in her mind.

The hollow darkness is still there.

And the memories fade away.

Why does she always get so lost?

This fortress of her body,

Doesn’t protect these distant memories,

That now linger is the drab abyss.

The voices now whisper in her ear,

Wanting to get inside the ice.

 Her thick skin is no longer a barrier,

To the dull memories.

Why does she always get so lost?

The voices soon begin to die out,

And mumble is,

All she hears.

Her pale face lays.

On the fluffy pillow of tears.

The voices are gone now,

And her once gold soul is,

Now transparent.