#child poems on Hello Poetry

Sophie Jun 9

I see some kids heading home from school,
bent over from the weight on their backpack.
In Palestine, children bear the politician’s schemes on their backs.
And bend further down,
grieving their parents’ lifeless forms.
Children, who used to be whole,
have their limbs torn off,
skin hanging from their faces and hands.

On my visit to the shop,
I see a kid throwing a tantrum over not getting sweets.
In Palestine, children hear cries of the wounded,
screaming for help.
While the world stands silent, aid delayed.
Red capes, a stone in their hands and a imaginary knife in their
teeth, they die as martyrs.

Politicians, no way you’d wield ruthless might,
If they were white children in your sight.

#blood #pain #politics #child #truth #waiting #children #die #death #human

Sandy May 30

"CHILD"

Don't know what is my country, religion or caste.
Don't know what are my rituals.
I am just a child.
"Innocent Child"
If you take me, I will become you.
If they take me, I will become them.
- Sandeep Kaushal

A Child is pure creature. Its the environment around him which shapes him/her.

#child #country #religion #caste #innocent

Shang May 29

glimpse

the soft light from
across
the room
cast a shadow
on half of you
and i thought to myself,
i am in love.
her ******* were
still swollen
from the child we lost,
a quiet weight between us
that neither of us could hold.

she smiled her sleepy
smile and said,
"i want this moment to last forever."

and i thought to myself,
i will be okay.
i said this with more
hope than honesty.

and honestly,
i gave up on hope
the day you aborted our child.

i lay there,
a hollow figure,
a man made of silence and waiting,
watching you carry a burden
i had no right to share.

my voice, a whisper trapped
behind fears I couldn’t overcome.
no place at the table,
no say in the body
that carried what was partly mine.

the room grew colder,
not from the night,
but from the space
between your heartbeat and mine.

i was powerless.
like a shadow on the wall,
there but unseen,
a ghost with no name,
no claim to the life
that never had a chance to be.

the loneliness was a quiet scream,
a thousand empty hands
reaching for something
that slipped through fingers
no matter how tight i clenched.

and still,
there was love,
fractured, fading,
a fragile echo
in the hollow of my chest.
love for the life
that'll never exist
that I'll never experience.

you drifted to sleep,
the soft rise and fall of your breath
a reminder i could not change
what had been taken from us.
what was taken from me..

and i whispered
to the empty room,
to the child i’d never hold—
i would’ve named you
after the quiet.

for the quiet that followed

#loss #child #heartbreak #hopelessness #betrayal #bitter #quiet #fragile #lonliness

Kai Jun 9

should I swallow pearls

“aficionado artiste”
“compassionate creative”
“enlightened erudite”
“siren singer”
these pearls that spill from your lips…
of course they do, clam that you are.
haven’t you seen Me? a poised performer, strung pearls over every joint
My neck, My wrists, My ankles, My waist—
all the places where bones settle and dust gathers
“heavy is the head that wears the crown,”
but Mine is wrapped in threaded pearl
heavy is the body in the brocade robes,
but Mine floats in tangled pearl

would I swallow pearl, I would sink and drown
but in this pearled net, I cascade in the wake, pulled along

“forgiving friend”
“irreplaceable idealist”
“reinvigorating rarity”
“enigmatic exemplar”
these pearls that fall from your fingers…
of course they do, shuck that you are.
haven’t you seen Me? I glisten, adorned and tangled in pearls.
I must be the most glimmering thing your piteous eyes can witness
with your mangled flesh and shattered shell!

my flesh? i have no flesh.
I became pearl long ago,
but the memory of flesh ensnares me.
i cultivated every single pearl with my own flesh.
i forced them into your mouths, hoping you would swallow them for me
praying you would sink for me
watching you drown for Me—
oh, won’t you drown with me?
swallow my pearls and sink to me,
and pull me back to the surface?
(caught in a net of pearl like this, how can i swim?)
(that body drowned long ago)

if you don’t drown in these lonely depths,
wind these threads around a hook
and pull this empty, pearl-embedded net through the wake.
my flesh is long sunken,
but I can still make your boat beautiful

oh, how do i try to summarize the thoughts behind this poem? it’s some mixture of golden child syndrome, a numbness to compliments, and the resignation that i may never be known by anyone— not even myself. i often fear i have lost the ability to know who i am, and this identity of mine is an empty performance for an audience of one.

it’s not difficult for me to admit that my self worth stems from my capability. this is only because i know my self-awareness ends up making me more charming. but if i say it bluntly like this, my arrogance will reveal itself, won’t it?

is it arrogance if i’m objectively correct? i ask myself this question often. i keep re-evaluating to make sure my outlook on everything is correct, and i am always brought to the same conclusion: i am undeniably an impressive and unique person, from an objective standpoint. of course, there are many impressive and unique people in this world. i have the great fortune of knowing some of them. i know i’m no rare gem, but merely a pearl like the many others.

so is this arrogance? or humbleness?

#golden #child #syndrome

Ellie Hoovs May 22

The Door

I crack it open softly
letting a single sliver of soft golden light
pour in, a solitary ray of sunshine breaking
through the clouds.
I hear the whisper of her steady breathing,
rhythmic waves ebbing and flowing,
on the slow inhale of the sea.
Her old penny copper hair twinkles in the light,
strands borrowed from a seraph's braid.
I envy her easy slumber,
the way her lips part with the stillness
of full relaxation.
I tiptoe across the carpet,
a sentinel seeking to capture the moment
in a bottle, or in my marrow.
I sit beside her and marvel at the miracle of her,
how she was forged from my very blood,
from my very bones,
smirking; she has my spirit too.
The world will not be ready,
not for her fierce blue eyes,
nor the blade I'll teach her to wield with her tongue
and a spine that won't need fire to be steeled.
I kiss the top of her resting head;
she does not stir.
I retreat in tiptoe,
close it delicately behind me,
and I pray.
I pray she never forgets the joy
of floating bubbles.
I pray she always uses the word NO
as powerfully as the age of 3 declares it.
I pray she will continue to run to me,
for hugs,
for comfort from every dark,
for love that will cover over every hurt,
and tend to every need.
And I pray she could always know this peace
and the guard of a door
opened and closed
by a heart, humbled and grateful.

#door #parenting #motherhood #mother #child #freeverse #surreal #dark #light #night

Charmour May 21

Touch?

I still remember his hands on me
Touching me everywhere
Everywhere he shouldn't
I still live under the same roof as him
Acting like it never happened
Acting like a loving family
But still I feel his hands on me
I told my mom
She knew everything
Yet nothing ever happened
Yet I sleep crying cuz I feel his hands on me

#childhood #trauma #abused #child #poem

Ivan May 16

dear (inner) child,

do you still wonder
if they think of you?
think wonders do you
if they still do?

I do. I did. we did.
I wonder if they care
that I thought of them
when I did care to wonder

how wonderful!, if it is

so...

#inner #child #remenisce #luizsyphre #wonderful #wordplay