Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kenedie Feb 2023
The beautiful bird sings in the cage
It sings sublime songs of freedom.
It reminds the spirits of all that hear
That their golden hour will come.
The sweet gale is heard through the storm
The bird never stops or falters.
For it knows with the song of its heart
The tune of the harsh rain will alter.
The bird knows someone out there always listens
They always have from the start.
The soul of the bird sings wild and free
Because they know who watches over their heart.
This was a poem based off "Hope is the Thing with Feathers" by Emily Dickson
Kenedie Nov 2020
My name is Spooder
My fangs are strong,
My body is small,
But my legs are long.
And when it's time,
to go to bed,
I weave a web for my sleepy head. :3
This is a poem about a loveable spider called Spooder. I got inspired off a cute snake poem
Kenedie Oct 2020
Everyone chases after something,

it's either love,

or hate,

or just SOMETHING.

We see the bubbles of our dreams,

and we run after them trying to capture them forever.

But when we reach those bubbles, POP

They disappear right in our hands, and we are left with nothing until we chase another one again,

In an endless cycle, till we die.
Kenedie Oct 2020
The animals are stars that shine in the night sky,

and when they see a human in need,

they jump down from their glory,

to rescue them.

When their job is finished,

and they see the good end,

they become a star shining in the night,

once again.
Kenedie Oct 2020
I remember when I first met you,

and it was one of the best days of my life.

We loved each other dearly,

and it really worked out.

You fed me,

played with me,

and I cheered you up when you were down.

One day something terrible happened,

that caused you to frown.

You were miserable for a while,

and constantly cried.

Everything I did to help,

but it wouldn't satisfy.

Then all of a sudden,

you lashed out on me,

and you would beat me terribly,

till' I could barely breathe.

I continued to love you,

because I knew,

deep down you were still in there,

even though this was new.

So on my last beating,

so here came my death,

"You'll always be my hero." I mewled

then I was gone like a winter's breath.
Kenedie Oct 2020
Yes, overwhelmingness is a real word
Kenedie Oct 2020

a poem is so good,

that it doesn't even need a title
Next page