"kinley" poems - Hello Poetry

We Live in FORT KINLEY that we fit in so thinly It is a very dark house And there happens to be a mouse We sit here night and day While eating candy, we play doll house and pick-up-stix running around eating chex-mix We Live in Fort Kinley in which we fit so thinly

0

Apr 30, 2010

Apr 30, 2010 at 9:40 PM UTC

claire-s-1

Kinley.... the Fort

We Live in FORT KINLEY that we fit in so thinly It is a very dark house And there happens to be a mouse We sit here night and day While eating candy, we play doll house and pick-up-stix running around eating chex-mix We Live in Fort Kinley in which we fit so thinly

10

Thursday, December 10, 2009 she's growing growing up right before my eyes and its no surprise im growing too i thought id be over this, but that's the first step and i cant. her feet are broken, and she cannot swim. and how do i make her see it's okay to be, tell me how when the greats, o they have forgotten and they have long sunk to the bottom and the saints they have been demoralized they know not the scent of their own blood but kinley its okay to be you are not forgotten and you WILL NOT sink to the bottom hold my hand and we will stand, who will make a stand? and we will shout to the sheep who thought it was better to be bought then free kinley just you and me. this pen and paper reap the paralyzing emotion i know too well but i am preparing for a better tomorrow just you and me we will stand take back whats ours by our birth right and i am a princess longing for a king who just really wants to be a queen and you know what i mean kinley just you and me i have short legs but i walk you have a crooked mouth but you talk and i want you to know even the barbies perched so high cant utter a word and the cant dance this crooked dance they cant whoop and holler kinley we'll make it honest we can.

0

Nov 26, 2012

Nov 26, 2012 at 7:29 PM UTC

unashamedlyashley

my friend kinley

Thursday, December 10, 2009 she's growing growing up right before my eyes and its no surprise im growing too i thought id be over this, but that's the first step and i cant. her feet are broken, and she cannot swim. and how do i make her see it's okay to be, tell me how when the greats, o they have forgotten and they have long sunk to the bottom and the saints they have been demoralized they know not the scent of their own blood but kinley its okay to be you are not forgotten and you WILL NOT sink to the bottom hold my hand and we will stand, who will make a stand? and we will shout to the sheep who thought it was better to be bought then free kinley just you and me. this pen and paper reap the paralyzing emotion i know too well but i am preparing for a better tomorrow just you and me we will stand take back whats ours by our birth right and i am a princess longing for a king who just really wants to be a queen and you know what i mean kinley just you and me i have short legs but i walk you have a crooked mouth but you talk and i want you to know even the barbies perched so high cant utter a word and the cant dance this crooked dance they cant whoop and holler kinley we'll make it honest we can.

34

Meet the boy standing on the stump of a tree, (species undisclosed) lopped because of reasons unknown, on the sidewalk, towering over his shadow unrolled tenuously like a policy behind him on the road littered with mouldy cups, hired ants, ****** breathing- you cannot find him on a GPS. That would be delusional. You can't meet him either. He's a service, a tangy satisfaction that doesn't want dinner until he goes back to his house, plonks his backpack, bats his way to consequence- rounds up his Kinley heart, that limpid stare-ahead.

0

Jan 24, 2019

Jan 24, 2019 at 11:08 AM UTC

anurag9762

Alfaaz, 14

Meet the boy standing on the stump of a tree, (species undisclosed) lopped because of reasons unknown, on the sidewalk, towering over his shadow unrolled tenuously like a policy behind him on the road littered with mouldy cups, hired ants, ****** breathing- you cannot find him on a GPS. That would be delusional. You can't meet him either. He's a service, a tangy satisfaction that doesn't want dinner until he goes back to his house, plonks his backpack, bats his way to consequence- rounds up his Kinley heart, that limpid stare-ahead.

14