Here is a list of Childhood Poems ordered by Most Commented, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
DEAR DIARY
"Dear Diary," how do you get everybody to be so trusting?
To tell their deepest secrets without withholding.
They just open up and allow their thoughts to be free,
Not worrying if you will judge them,they just let it be.
You come in so many colours to show you are not bias by race,
You never rush but allows one to express at their own pace.
Your pages scribble,cried on,torn but you don't complain,
Misspelled words,naughty thoughts cause you no pain.
Advertised on a bookshelf waiting to be sold,
Each word written makes the purchase worth more than gold.
For once we write," Dear Diary,"
Then after that it becomes our greatest duty,
to keep this precious book carefully,
Disguised in absolute privacy.
"Dear Diary," Oh how you listen to us grow,
Keeping our inner thoughts that no one else can know.
Our dreaming,
Our losing,
Our winning,
Our every emotion blatantly displaying.
And with each day,each year, you have kept intact,
It is such a pleasure to turn your pages and look back.
To that first day when with shaking hands I trusted you entirely,
And began life's journey,
With the trusted words,"Dear Diary..."
To tell their deepest secrets without withholding.
They just open up and allow their thoughts to be free,
Not worrying if you will judge them,they just let it be.
You come in so many colours to show you are not bias by race,
You never rush but allows one to express at their own pace.
Your pages scribble,cried on,torn but you don't complain,
Misspelled words,naughty thoughts cause you no pain.
Advertised on a bookshelf waiting to be sold,
Each word written makes the purchase worth more than gold.
For once we write," Dear Diary,"
Then after that it becomes our greatest duty,
to keep this precious book carefully,
Disguised in absolute privacy.
"Dear Diary," Oh how you listen to us grow,
Keeping our inner thoughts that no one else can know.
Our dreaming,
Our losing,
Our winning,
Our every emotion blatantly displaying.
And with each day,each year, you have kept intact,
It is such a pleasure to turn your pages and look back.
To that first day when with shaking hands I trusted you entirely,
And began life's journey,
With the trusted words,"Dear Diary..."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2019
About this poem:
I remembered my first diary and how I felt keeping this precious book.
Paperboys day
Paperboys route
Start at the shop where the newspapers wait
Get cracking or I'll be delivering late
Onto my bike heavy bag a swinging
Pedal like crazy to get the chain singing
Off on the route I used to follow
Down the hill and into the hollow
Start near the school, post one or two
Then the Police house this chaps new
Round the corner past the shop
Deliver the Herald the best of the crop
No one about this hour before daylight
Another two miles and the day will be bright
Feel in the bag only the Times remaining
Weathers changed its started raining
Last one through the letterbox today
Mount my bike and shout hurray
Only another mile homeward riding fast
Home for breakfast at last
Bread to be toasted in front of the fire
Butter and jam a taste to acquire
A nice brew of tea ready for the day
Pack my school bag no time to play
Back on my bike three miles to ride
Arrive at school where I'm really tried.
Start at the shop where the newspapers wait
Get cracking or I'll be delivering late
Onto my bike heavy bag a swinging
Pedal like crazy to get the chain singing
Off on the route I used to follow
Down the hill and into the hollow
Start near the school, post one or two
Then the Police house this chaps new
Round the corner past the shop
Deliver the Herald the best of the crop
No one about this hour before daylight
Another two miles and the day will be bright
Feel in the bag only the Times remaining
Weathers changed its started raining
Last one through the letterbox today
Mount my bike and shout hurray
Only another mile homeward riding fast
Home for breakfast at last
Bread to be toasted in front of the fire
Butter and jam a taste to acquire
A nice brew of tea ready for the day
Pack my school bag no time to play
Back on my bike three miles to ride
Arrive at school where I'm really tried.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2021
About this poem:
Memories of Youth
Brown eyes
Mirror mirror
What do I see
Who is that sad girl looking at me
As I look at her I cry
Something inside me has died
Those sad little brown eyes
Why was she given such a bad Dad
Daddy Daddy
Why her
She’s just a child can’t you see
She’s just a little girl
Sitting on the floor
Playing with her dolls
While nobody’s looking after she
The beautiful girl with the brown eyes
Mommy mommy
Why can’t you see
Daddy Daddy
Is abusing she
Don’t just stand there and stare
Why don’t you protect her
Show her you care
Wipe the tears from her brown little eyes
Daddy Daddy
Why do you stare
She’s just a little girl
With sad brown eyes
Sitting on the floor
With No where to hide
What do I see
Who is that sad girl looking at me
As I look at her I cry
Something inside me has died
Those sad little brown eyes
Why was she given such a bad Dad
Daddy Daddy
Why her
She’s just a child can’t you see
She’s just a little girl
Sitting on the floor
Playing with her dolls
While nobody’s looking after she
The beautiful girl with the brown eyes
Mommy mommy
Why can’t you see
Daddy Daddy
Is abusing she
Don’t just stand there and stare
Why don’t you protect her
Show her you care
Wipe the tears from her brown little eyes
Daddy Daddy
Why do you stare
She’s just a little girl
With sad brown eyes
Sitting on the floor
With No where to hide
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2018
Post Comment
A Brownies Girl....Not
~Bentlee Challenge-One of your earliest funny memories~ Poem
The days were sunny
hockey sticks in the funny
the water cool
racing in the pool
ballet pointing
wanting to dance
just not
elegance
Sent to "Brownies"
all the immaculate
dressed brimming
Me
finished swimming hair wet
was told
to stay away
kicked out of Brownies
that
day
Never made it to the Girl Guides
The days were sunny
hockey sticks in the funny
the water cool
racing in the pool
ballet pointing
wanting to dance
just not
elegance
Sent to "Brownies"
all the immaculate
dressed brimming
Me
finished swimming hair wet
was told
to stay away
kicked out of Brownies
that
day
Never made it to the Girl Guides
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2017
About this poem:
I was so into sports and in the late 60's you had to conform as a girl to brownies and girl guides my older sister did wonderfully, but i just was so into sport and dance,I was in a swimming comp when I turned up at Brownies, and my hair being very long was all wet, I was ordered out of the line up.
My mum probably didn't give me a towel, was not about to tell the brownie leader lady.
We were quite poor.
online today!To Boldly Go.......
Seldom following the foot path of life
A trail always winding not straight and smooth
Our sorrows like pricker bushes are rife
Many scraps and scratches we need to soothe
When caution falls in the way of our haste
When each foot step is not carefully placed
When in our boldness our trust is misplaced
When we fail to notice shoes are still laced
Always fear grows in the darkening dusk
With goals of growing from darkness to light
Civilize manners a little less brusque
Boldness becomes a little more contrite
Still hope for mankind should we slow the pace
Sometimes timidity's a safer place
A trail always winding not straight and smooth
Our sorrows like pricker bushes are rife
Many scraps and scratches we need to soothe
When caution falls in the way of our haste
When each foot step is not carefully placed
When in our boldness our trust is misplaced
When we fail to notice shoes are still laced
Always fear grows in the darkening dusk
With goals of growing from darkness to light
Civilize manners a little less brusque
Boldness becomes a little more contrite
Still hope for mankind should we slow the pace
Sometimes timidity's a safer place
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2012
About this poem:
This poem is a commentary on the invasive pace of modern lifestyles."To boldly goes where no one has gone before" epitomizes a spirit
much different than a child's natural shyness. I was such a child, once shy and fearful of life. With so many uncertainties about the direction of society, harm to environment, and political misgivings...is anyplace safe anymore?
For U
Passing the ball to
and fro knowing you have
to get to the basket
is your goal.
The ball might get
away somehow.
Getting the shot
1, 2, 3, racking them
up for all to see.
Winning the game
Rah Rah Rah forever
now i am a star.
and fro knowing you have
to get to the basket
is your goal.
The ball might get
away somehow.
Getting the shot
1, 2, 3, racking them
up for all to see.
Winning the game
Rah Rah Rah forever
now i am a star.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2012
About this poem:
Son playing basketball
Summer
Summer days,summer nights,
Summer roads, summer light.
Like summer love some are delights that don't get old.
Summer job, summer fun,
summer always on the run.
My summer's long my summer's short my summer's gone .
Summer roads, summer light.
Like summer love some are delights that don't get old.
Summer job, summer fun,
summer always on the run.
My summer's long my summer's short my summer's gone .
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2013
Post Comment
Alone in the attic (childhood memory aged 5)
I came into this world without a frown or a smile,
looking back now it seems a very long while,
my early years pushed from pillar to post,
should be seen and never heard,
was I there or a ghost.
My family disjointed-estranged, poles apart,
I thought this was normal right from the start,
love was a word others told,
hugs of emotion left me cold.
Problem child I heard them say,
lock him up and throw him away,
unfamiliar strange was the lyric the tune,
as the door closed behind me,
in my dads attic room.
No carpet no drapes dirty sheet on my bed,
not even a pillow to rest my head,
a broken window let in the breeze,
I cried into the night,
I would surely freeze.
I needed the toilet I banged upon the door,
my only response was a distant roar,
no bulb in the fixture illuminated my plight,
alone in the dark I cried into the night.
Next morning footsteps I had to wait,
the door would creak open and in slid a plate,
baked beans steaming bent over the heat,
cockroaches scurried as they watched me eat.
I was only 5 years old but the memory is clear,
what had I done to end up in here,
nobody loved me my dreams said at night,
alone in the dark in my dads attic out of sight.
looking back now it seems a very long while,
my early years pushed from pillar to post,
should be seen and never heard,
was I there or a ghost.
My family disjointed-estranged, poles apart,
I thought this was normal right from the start,
love was a word others told,
hugs of emotion left me cold.
Problem child I heard them say,
lock him up and throw him away,
unfamiliar strange was the lyric the tune,
as the door closed behind me,
in my dads attic room.
No carpet no drapes dirty sheet on my bed,
not even a pillow to rest my head,
a broken window let in the breeze,
I cried into the night,
I would surely freeze.
I needed the toilet I banged upon the door,
my only response was a distant roar,
no bulb in the fixture illuminated my plight,
alone in the dark I cried into the night.
Next morning footsteps I had to wait,
the door would creak open and in slid a plate,
baked beans steaming bent over the heat,
cockroaches scurried as they watched me eat.
I was only 5 years old but the memory is clear,
what had I done to end up in here,
nobody loved me my dreams said at night,
alone in the dark in my dads attic out of sight.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2013
About this poem:
This poem reflects my plight at the age of 5, I was taken from my mother by my father to an unknown address miles from my family home after my mother was taken into hospital for being kicked in the stomach by my father when she was 8 months pregnant resulting in a miscarriage, then I was told my mother was dead (she wasn't) and lived with my father's new family and 6 children who bullied and abused me, after 11 months my father returned me to my grandma and I was taken into care finally returned to my mother when I was 7 years old.The Boy of Fall
The boy of fall
He pulls his weight over and over
Rushing past, faster than the other
Where is it, where is he
The determination in front of him to reach
Shining star to catch
Zig zag back and forth
The crunch of pads and helmets met
Push forward to the reach
Excursion builds as he plows forward
No sound no sight but one
To put that man to the ground
The sweat of practice on his brow
Cheers from crowds in a din
Leather and metal clash together
They fall as one in the crush
Oh my son, oh my son
Born in the springtime for the harvest fun
Your passion abides between the lines
Plow forward between the tide
He pulls his weight over and over
Rushing past, faster than the other
Where is it, where is he
The determination in front of him to reach
Shining star to catch
Zig zag back and forth
The crunch of pads and helmets met
Push forward to the reach
Excursion builds as he plows forward
No sound no sight but one
To put that man to the ground
The sweat of practice on his brow
Cheers from crowds in a din
Leather and metal clash together
They fall as one in the crush
Oh my son, oh my son
Born in the springtime for the harvest fun
Your passion abides between the lines
Plow forward between the tide
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2011
Post Comment
daddy
i wish i didn't do this
i wish i was ok
i wish the past would lose itself
and daddy would go away.
i'm sorry that i ruined your life
but fact is that he ruined mine
yes-i could've kept it secret
but then i'd be dead and you'd regret it.
well daddy-was it worth it all?
few drinks made the demon call.
well i'm done now
it's all over
in the morning i'll be here with another hangover
i wish i was ok
i wish the past would lose itself
and daddy would go away.
i'm sorry that i ruined your life
but fact is that he ruined mine
yes-i could've kept it secret
but then i'd be dead and you'd regret it.
well daddy-was it worth it all?
few drinks made the demon call.
well i'm done now
it's all over
in the morning i'll be here with another hangover
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2012
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