Saturday, July 11, 2009


As the girl stood in the field
She leaned over a beautiful rose
She watched as the wind blew every petal away
She felt as if she were holding her life in her hands
The mistakes she thought could never be forgiven forgave
The last petal blew away but not unnoticed
She hoped her life had brought the happiness to everyone around her
The way this flower had brought happiness to her
As she looked down there was nothing left of the flower
All she had left were memories of the flower in her heart
She hoped that when she was gone from this world she too would leave
Sweet and fond memories in the hearts and minds of everyone
The way the flower had left her.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

My Poems

We went to the library today and I checked out a book of poems by Edgar Allan Poe. After I read them I was inspired to write some of my own. I wrote a total of seven but I want to just put one out right now. Please leave a comment and tell me what you think.

The Poverty Princess

The ground upon which she toils is so dry
That when it is hit with water
One would think that there is a small fire
Because of the dust it produces
Her garden looks as if it is a burial ground
For decaying vegetables and rotting weeds
Her house looks as if not even pigs would feel welcomed
But that the perfect guest must be the most gruesome of bugs on the planet
Her clothes look in such a way that one could not help but doubt that the poor would even
Accept them as a donation
She is the very definition of poverty and filthiness
And every day these facts are made known to her
By the glances of her passers
And rather than imagine a different way of living
She excepts her state of being
She is thankful that she even has land and that she has clothes to wear
And that if ever one day she comes out of her state of life at present
She can comfort those who still are there because she knows how the glances pierce
The heart
In her own eyes her life is the very definition of happiness and content
She feels as if she were living as a princess treasuring every moment
Without uttering a complaint because her maker is still giving her breath.
"Blessed be the God and Father of our LORD Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God."
II Corinthians 1:3&4

-Sarah Hadding