What's New? | Competitions | About us | Site Map | Privacy | Contact | Join
Creative Writing
Kids on the Net

WiredKids Approved Safe Site Seal

    bullet Stories |bullet Poems

 Writing from Sal, 13, Ohio, USA

Child of Man

"You'll understand when you're older."
Explain it to me now.

"I'm busy now, tomorrow is a better day."
We may not be here tomorrow, and my wedding day is sooner than you think.

"I would never expect a useless runt like you to know."
And you think yelling will teach me anything more than to yell back?

They treat us like we don't know, like we don't see. Children see threw walls, and we hear a lot more than you think. And here we hide, behind these wide eyes.

"You just don't know what its like to be a kid today!"
You don't know what it's like to be a parent today.

"I'll do it later, I'm busy today."
We may not be here later, your wedding is closer than you think.

"I wouldn't expect a stupid parent like you to understand."
And you could fix that, yelling doesn't teach me anything.

They treat us like we've never known, like we forgot why we grew up. We remember all lot more than you think. We see so much of ourselves in you, more than we could ever say. And here we hide, behind these narrow eyes.

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Show You Love Me

What a wonderful way to show you love me
Getting divorced and making me jump between you

What a brilliant way to show you care
Roll your eyes, and assume the world I will live in will fix itself

What a pleasant way to be there for me
Smile and look right threw me, to concerned about your own affairs

What a merry thought for my future
Destroy my tomorrow, today

What a fabulous conspiracy
Never wanting to ask, never caring to listen

What a wonderful world that you've left for me
Now in this world, I've got to make someone to be

What a radiant idea I was to be
I just wish you could still feel that way about me

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

The Final Act

The lights darken, and the curtin drops. The next act is about to begin. All the actors take their place and prepare for the final act. The audience, the world holds it's breath, all antisipating the final act.

All the people, still shaken from the crimson wave of the last act, held in nervious silence of dispair. Then the whispering starts, or maybe it always has been, no one knows. They shiver with dread, this is the dread of the final act.

The actors, one in particular tries to hide the scarlett glove, trying to hide from the final act.

The lights, dimmed for a time aprehensive of revealing what the darkness hides. Afraid to reveal the final act.

The curtin quivers, unsure to lift. Everyone waits for it to raise, everyone waits for the final act.

The band starts up again, shatering the fright, and the lights begin to brighten. But the curtain doesn't move, afraid to begin the final act.

The actors breath steadies, and the audience whispers nerviously, afraid something is wrong. What is to happen in the final act?

Encouraged by the lights moved along by the urge of the audience, the curtin begins to raise. The final act is about to begin.

The band director stops, stunned by the beauty of the final act.

The audience erupes in wild consurn and the fright. Is that supposed to happen? Is that blood on his shirt? The terrible fasination of the final act.

The actors exchange glances of dismay. This isnt supposed to end this way, its only for fun. This is the magic of the final act.

He shifts, and he sways. the scarlett wave intoxicating his being. He laughs an insane laugh. This is the insanity of the final act.

The actors shiver from the safety of the stage, they watch, held by crued fasination. This is the fasination of the final act.

The sound echos off the silent walls, the sound of the scarlett stars fall. This is the sound of the final act.

The actors want to help but are held motionless. This is the power of the final act.

The audience, unsire to be afraid or amazed claps nerviously. This is the amazment of the final act.

The curtain lowers, and the band plays a farewell song. The lights brighten and the audience leaves. The actors clear the set. The scarlett star rises from his puddle of blood, and takes his leave. Another successfull performance. This, is the end of

The Final Act

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Come Home From A War

To take leave isn't to forget

To forget is to leave but in a state of mind

A man can leave a battle, wonded scars painful reminders of what took place

But a diffrent man can be pulled out of a battle, and remember nothing

So who is in the right?

Is it the man who lives his life happy, but years of his life are gone

Or the man who limps, living with terrible memories

The Answer?

The same man who smiles at others strenth, the same man who laughs when people ask him if he has leadership skills, his old buddies say "You're diffrent somehow" and he's even lost a few, frightening dreams keep him up at night, his old scars hurt, this man is stern, and proud.

This man came, saw and conquered and came home

But the man who forgot lives a happy life, he runs to hospitals and worries his family, he remembers no honor, he remembers no pride, his old friends still hang around, he's even gained a few, no memories give him pleasent dreams, and the scars dont hurt because he doesnt remember their story.

This man left and came back

It isnt wrong to leave, so who is right?

Who really came home from a war?

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

My Angel He

There once was a man only known by "He"
His true name was known only by me
Was told no lie when it was said
That his feet were tied tight to led
He was benoinced to the sea
My wonderful angel He
It was known by me and myself
Why at the bottom of the sea herself
Lies the heart of a nameless man
The name of which few can
Recal the long forgotten name
Forgotten to forget a terrible shame
But I remember when she killed
The nameless man when I filled
His shoes with led, now only she the sea
Remembers Lee, a nameless man named He

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Even Though We Hate Them, Who Would We Be Without Them

If only you weren't leaving not leaving long.

If only you hadnt left before I could say good-bye.

And even if you had stayed what would she have said then?

If she'd replaced you with another because you weren't here, what would you say now?

If you spent your time making her believe you didn't care, what would you say now?

If she had left, gone in your stead, what would you say now?

If she never knew, if she's never found out, who would you be?

Who would you be if you had never met she?

And who would she be if she had never met you?

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Untitled

As I was walking one summers eve I saw to the East the great mountains before me. The way the mist rolled over them in a fashion of peace struck me in a way as one feels when in love. The way it stood when the storm came, the rock stronger than others stands alone. The better always do for since there is no comparison to themselves, they become accustom to being alone, one must learn the know how to handle it when there time of aloneness doth come. The mountain has. Are you not higher is his eye then they? Are you not better than the rivers? They who constantly move They work together but if one thought it better than the rest farms would be ruined for the water would separate covering the earth. Are ye not better than they? Are ye not better than the fowl of the air? They neither work till winters eve not sleep all summer through, and yet your heavenly father feedeth them in such a way they needeth not worry. Consider the valley they lie peaceful and calm. It is mans chose to make them such a place of death as what did lay before me so many years past. Think of the bridge that runs from the mountains. It is given a task and even as it ages it never abandons its task are ye not more diligent then they? As each person becomes of age the right to seize work becomes clearer, but the young who leave for the foolishness of youthful reasoning shall fall past those who bier on. As the mountain does stand alone, it does help the rest achieve the splendor of a mountain chain, as it does not labor yet its simple needs are met, men do as they wish to it but do not shake it, it does not quiver at challenges,
Yes the splendor of a mountain all covered in mist is moving, it is said we came move mountains, and not let mountains move us in our quest for purity.

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Love of Another

You said wait here, said you'd be right back

Said not to leave, stay in this cold shack

You said you were in control

You said if I ever left you'd let them take their toll

All of these wasted years keeping my fear of you at bay

Now I'm taken up the rains and I'm gonna run away

You call all your family, get your brothers up in arms

You can hunt me down like a dog, get some witches hunten charms

You can tie me to the bed, try to make me say 'Please NO'

You stick me in a hole, make sure the water isn't low

I'll still get away.

I'll still get away

I've got somin better than your brawn, somin stronger than your strong

I've got someone else's love an it's sweeter than you say

You think I'm gonna wait you up until the dreary month of May

You can cut me into pieces hold me till I turn a nasty green

You can lock me away, starve me till I'm nice and lean

You can boil me to a powder, bake me into a pie

I'll still get away

I'll still get away

I've got somin better than your smile, somin hotter than your fire

I've got the love of another and it's better than you know

You think I'm a trophy somin you can go and show

You can put me in the freezer, hope I burn to icicle

You can whip me with a scalpel, tell my mama it'll tickle

You can take me to the sea, hold my face in the sand

You can tie me to the roof and make me pray for the land

I'll still get away

I'll still get away

I've got somin better than your looks, somin better than your best

I've got the love of another and it'll take me home

You can pretend I'm dead, lock me in a closet

You can blame it all on me, even if you're the one who does it

You can duck tape my mouth, make sure I never say a word

You can hit me with a bat, make sure my vision's blurred

You can tell all my friends, get them all mad and cold

You can marry off my mom, and make sure I'm never told

I'll still get away

I'll still get away

Just to be with my other

You can tell me it's bad, but babe

It's all the love you never had

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

The Fools They Are

I once sat in my house, just the cobwebs, dust and me.

The shutters were locked, for the robbers were out. All the lights were out, save one candle

As I stare into the fire the light flickers, gone.

Now you would think I starred blankly at the darkness, but no, no! I immediately light a match, no! I threw open the blinds and the shudders, yes.

I looked over the city, the Tower, the shops the homes lay still. The plague had passed us bye, or so we thought.

After a month Starvation, Plague, and Poverty had sunken in there deadly claws.

But I survived. And soon I was the only one left. Some had fled, some had fallen, but not I.

I stayed locked up in my great tower, not a rat, flee, or life sucking doctor set foot in my great tower.

They say I have died. 'Rest in peace old Bogart.' They pray.

What know they? They bath in those devil leeches!

What know they? They slap silver into the palms of witches for their fortune.

What know they? They say love is in the eye of the beholder, when it is really in the heart of the beholder.


What know they? They dwell in their own foolish wisdom, assuming me dead.

I live longer than any of these fools

I call them fools

For fools they are

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

To My Love

It is dark where I am, love
But I pray it is bright where you are

I can see the rain beating on the window
I hope you are dry

There is constant danger here, love
I hope you are safe

I am aloud no fire here sweetheart,
I hope you have a forest fire to warm by

I am saddened,
But I would have it no other way than if you were happy

There are evil things afoot here my sweet,
But I want it more than air that you are surrounded by good

Everything here hates me

I have been uncertain of almost everything
Since they took me away from you

But one thing is unknowingly true in my mind
You are forever in my heart,
I have chosen your name as my last word

I love you with a love that is more that love
A love that surpasses the love
Of those older and wiser than we

Become king, become surf
Whatever you do or are
Whatever you are becoming
Whatever you have always been
Whatever it is you show me

I show you love
And I accept your love in return

My wildest dream
Is a distant dream no more!

The love of my lover,
Even in this dark cell
Glows and burns, with a light none can match

In a final act I tell you I miss you
I'd sail every sea, and cut down every tree

I'd do anything to keep your love
And for it I die

Life for a life

Love for a love

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

In Paradise

I found myself one day in paradise

I found myself eating at my Father's table, and looking into his eyes

My brothers and sisters surround me; I feel their love for me

I walk my Father's streets paved with golden bricks

I swim in my Father's lake and breathe while under

I shall dwell in my Father's house, always here, forevermore

And in my Father's house are many rooms, so come visit him, my brothers and sisters, and I here, in Paradise.

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Only Once And Nevermore

To be dear to you, to be sung in your song. To be dear to you seen in your eye of critic.

To be near you in your inner circle, to know your deepest thoughts.

To be called dear by you would be as good as on this earth it gets.

All these things happened once, only once and nevermore.

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Every Once and A While

Every Once and a while she still looks at that dress in the corner of her closet.

Every once and a while she looks at the clock wishing she could turn it back.

Every once and a while she fingers the key around her neck, and she wishes it was still the key to his heart.

Every once and a while she dusts off their picture, so his smile still looks real.

Every once and a while she plays their song, and dances by herself.

Every once and a while she changes her ring tone, so he wont know it's her.

Every once and a while she shines up her nails, to show she still knows how to.

Every once and a while she combs her hair the way he liked it, just to see how she used to look.

Every once and a while she pokes her ankle, so see how much a tattoo there would hurt.

Every once and a while she writes a chain letter, describing how she feels.

Every once and a while she almost thinks that, someone might take the hint.

Every once and a while she sends him an e-mail, thinking he might respond.

Every once and a while she IMs her friends and she hopes they still thinks she's alright.

Every once and a while she turns on a sad song, so she knows there's other people like her.

Every once and a while she hides in her closet, because the tears running down her cheeks scare her more than the monster.

Every once and a while she sleeps with ice, because her tears burn like fire .

Every once and a while she writes a sad poem, describing how she feels.

Every once and a while she smiles and laughs,

But only every once and a while

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

If We Were All Real

You are real,
Because I see you
You are real
Because I hear you

You are near
Because I feel you
You are near
Because I know you

You are alive
Because I hear you
You cant be dead
Because I know you

You have to be here
Because you said you wouldn't leave
You have to be near
Because you promised

You must be here
Because you can't lie

You must be here
Because I want you

And if we all tried
Maybe we could keep one heart from stopping
We could mend one cut forever
We could, keep one soul
From going the ranks above

If we all stayed together
If we stood side by side as one
If we chose forever
What would happen then?

You are alive
You are near
You are real

Because I cant accept it
Because I wont believe it
Because you'll always be here to me

You'll always be near
So I'll never fear

Sometimes it seems
If someone dreams

Something could be done.

If we were together
For sometime, forever
Think of all we could do:

And if we all tried
Maybe we could keep one heart from stopping
We could mend one cut forever
We could, keep one soul
From going the ranks above

If we all stayed together
If we stood side by side as one
If we chose forever
What would happen then?

Could we keep one soul on earth
Save one life save one birth

Now I love you
And I miss you
So its time
To let you go

But I'll let you know
I'll never forget you
And even if they tell me you're never coming back

I still think:

If we all tried
Maybe we could keep one heart from stopping
We could mend one cut forever
We could, keep one soul
From going the ranks above

If we all stayed together
If we stood side by side as one
If we chose forever
What would happen then?

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Stuck Here

It's cold outside
But warm where they abide
I'm looking at the rain
Threw this dusty window pain
Something just bit me on the shin
And these walls are closin' in
Soon I'm gonna hit the floor
Why isn't there a door?
Guess the bald doc went and lied
But my mom already cried
Is it fair to tell them more
If they're the people I'd die for
Do those Pearl Gates have a lock?
Guess I ran out of time 'Tick Tock'
Guess I shouldn't have defiled...
Now God looks down at me, 'Oh my sweet lost child.'

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Maybe Its Just Me

I thought you'd be happy being king
I thought you would like the crown
I thought you would sit at my side
And live out the story

But when the jewels started shining
And we moved through the town
You ran off somewhere to hide
You were still living in allegory

I guess it wasn't what I thought
Maybe it wasn't meant to be
But there is one thing
I still want to know

If they called 'long live the queen'
Baby would I hear you calling loud?
If they gave me three hazzahs
Would you look at me proud?
And if they threw a party in my honor
Sweetheart would you even be in the crowd?

Maybe it's just me

I gave you a kingdom
And you threw it away

Precious what were ya thinkin:
What made it so bad today?

Everything I ever said
Everywhere I ever went
I'd do it all again
Just to know what did you in

My heart feels full of lead
All the words I ever meant
Waited on the wrong men
Seems like I just can't win!


I guess it wasn't what I thought
Maybe it wasn't meant to be
But there is one thing
I still want to know

If they called 'long live the queen'
Baby would I hear you calling loud?
If they gave me three hazzahs
Would you look at me proud?
And if they threw a party in my honor
Sweetheart would you even be in the crowd?

Maybe it's just me

Yeah it's good to be queen
Until its time to sleep

You said you'd be here
There's a dent in the pillow where your head used to be.

Maybe it's just me

But it seems,
That when you're gone,

It's good to be queen.

Or maybe it's just me.

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

What Does He Hear

What does he hear?

What does he see?

What does he chose not to see?

If he can hear the whisper of the wind,

And he pays attention to the tears of spiders,

And if he really does hear the moaning to the river,

Does he hear the soft sobbing of a beaten woman?

Does he see the red eyes of stupid men who just realized how stupid they were?

Does he hear the crying of the broken slave?

Does he know the pain of a dying man?

Does he stare the pain of a woman, when her children leave?

Does he understand why pressured teenagers do what they do?

Does he know the anguish of a woman who just doesn't love herself?

Does he hear the silent wave when a child says good bye?

Does he hear the tug on a father's heart when he has to leave his children?

Does he hear a heart break?

Would he have the time, to stop and comfort a sad girl?

Does he have the patience to wait on a prodigal son?

Can he stop to ask 'what the matter?'

What would he say to a dying boy?

Does he have the time to stop and listen a street player?

Would he drop a quarter into an open guitar case?

Would he buy a sandwich for a starving man?

Can he end world hunger?

If he controls the universe,

Does he hear the call of a small child?

Can he hear their cry?

Will he wipe away a tear from someoneĆ½s cheek?

Would he go to a child's baseball game even if the child's father wouldn't go?

Would he pull that bottle out of her hand?

Would he get rid of that pot for him?

Would he be there when she cracks?

What about him? Would he help him? Or her? Or that man down the street, or the old lady in the white house, or the dirty mechanic, or the rock star, or the doctor, or the patient, or the actor, or the thief, or the gothic teenager, or the bartender, or the pregnant girl, or the drunk guy, or the bouncer, or the police man, or the lawyer, or the man stranded on a deserted island, or the man who flies planes, or the man in prison, or the tattoo artist, or the biker, or the banker, the pastor, the writer, the director, the lonely girl in the corner, the boy who eats alone at lunch, the single mom, the broker, the poker player, the drug addict, the soup kitchen volunteer, the middle school principle, the play-boy bunnies, the rich, the famous, the gold diggers, the chief, the fashion crazy, the girl with cancer, me? Would he help any of them?


Would you?

What do you hear?

What do you see?

What do you chose not to see?

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Awake

I sit by the river
My friends sit not far
They want to go down
Were I dare not go

They go on without me
They climb were I advise they don't
And they fall as I knew they would

They cry for assistance,
But I can't reach them
They swim to the opposite shore
And curse me

I stutter and slur; I couldn't reach them!
But they don't believe me
They drag themselves to flat rocks
And replace their lost breath

I offer them my coat
But they refuse my gesture
Spitting in my wake

I leave them, tears in my eyes
They give chase of my weary soul
I run through my front door,
I throw the dead bolt,
Pressing my tired weight against the heartless wood.

I feel their fists pounding on the other side,
I hurl myself to the corner
They call my name
In deceiving voices
Their nails scratch and peel at the paint
I cry out to God for any escape from this

I awake to the sound of my own scream.

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

Peace in a Hurricane

I listen to the brook
I hear the rustle of leaves
As the dryads, imps and fairies
Nest down for the night.

I hear the pat of feet
I hear it in a beat
As if keeping time
In a Rhythmic sort of rhyme

I hear the sighing of the trees
As they swing in a breeze
Ever picking speed
In the eye of the hurricane

I hear the eerie peace,
As all of the world holds its breath
And waits waits waits
And waits waits waits

Then the storm
The trees they sway
The brook in bursts
The feet pound harder

The time hours maybe
Peace silence, stillness, fear
But the peace is real
The rain lessens.

The creatures come back
They see the destruction
They cry their little tears
They awake and see what really is

I hear the rain
I see the rain
I know a dream is over

July 2007

Click here to reply to this or to read other people's feedback on it

or send your own writing

divider line

divider line

©2003-2011 Kids on the Net and the authors        Last revised 09-Jul-2011
Kids on the Net

divider line

Return to Top