Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

Popular last 30 days

love Poem poetry depression sad life truth death nonet War

Popular last 12 months

Love poetry life poem nature death Hope war loss poet

childhood (Remove filter)

Recent Comments

John Coopey on Eradicating an old flame pain
10 minutes ago

Reggie's Ghost on Wild Dogs
2 hours ago

rob1967able on tearing us apart.
2 hours ago

Manish Singh Rajput on Sitting To Write
6 hours ago

Manish Singh Rajput on Peninsula
6 hours ago

Carpe Diem on Breathe
6 hours ago

Tim Higbee on Peninsula
10 hours ago

Auracle on In memoriam...
12 hours ago

Auracle on Fred's dilemma
12 hours ago

Auracle on Another Shadow
12 hours ago

That Old Me | Agonizing Words

In the midst of changing the world, I lost my soul while creating my life. Now when I look back to the time when I was still a kid so full of innocence, kindness, and full of happiness. Now life is like a rat race where all we can think about is just getting more and more involved in work to earn more for a better lifestyle. But have you ever thought of the time when you were a kid and when th...

Read and leave comments (0)

past timeschildhoodteenagersdeath of childhoodbrokenlost

Make Me A Child Again

I was reading a blog a while ago where the author quoted a line from a poem which was 'make me a child again, just for tonight'. The poem was Rock Me to Sleep by Elizabeth Aykers Allen and I was so taken by that line I had to pinch it and add my own spin.

 

Show me the past again

Turn on a light

Make me a child again

Just for tonight

 

Show me the home where I grew up

Show ...

Read and leave comments (4)

childhood

Shapes

“Shapes are everywhere, grandad.  EVERYWHERE! 

There’s a triangle, here’s a square!”

William pointed through the moving car’s window.

He said all this with an air of complete surprise.

But I felt challenged to open my eyes,

To perceive this world with the mind of a child.

Yes, shapes ARE everywhere, it cannot be denied.

I was impressed by his delineation

(He only turned fou...

Read and leave comments (7)

childhood

Forever Young

GRANDPA IS MY BESTIE

Is emblazoned across this shirt

Which you used to own.

It looks so tiny in my hands!

A visual manifestation

Of how incredibly tall you have grown

In such a very short time!

It makes me sad, yet happy,

To see it lying there.

A token of the special bond

We shared.

 

And share still.

Time has moved on, Will,

Your shirts are double that si...

Read and leave comments (10)

childhood

My Bleeding Mother

My heart is hurting.

It can’t contain the pain.

It seeps like beads of sweat out of my body

And falls like drops of rain.

 

The rain soaks my shoes,

then bleeds through to the skin.

The cold of winter settles;

it settles once again.

 

I cannot save my mother,

Though she and I both hoped that I could.

But I’m afraid that a daughter’s love

Can’t always do the t...

Read and leave comments (2)

GriefChildhoodLoss

Hide and Seek

Grandad’s garden is huge.

It has lots of places to hide.

Behind the tree, within the shed,

Behind that ginormous bush!

Eyes closed; I have counted to ten,

A trick I have learned from TV.

“Grandad! Where ARE you?”

A faintly distant reply comes

From somewhere in the garden,

“You have to find me, William.”

A pause. A rustle in the bushes.

“It’s the whole point of the ...

Read and leave comments (6)

childhood

'Seven Times'

‘Seven times’ ~ A poem for my younger siblings 

I have fallen in love seven times.

Seven pairs of eyes that blinked open

and looked back into mine.

My heart expanded into spaces

I did not know I had,

as your entire hand curled

around my single finger pad.

I no longer had but one shadow,

I smiled down to see now two.

Over the years,

your bodies changed and grew,

...

Read and leave comments (4)

siblingschildrenchildhoodlove

The Changing of the Guard

 

Poor old grandad!

He’s not the man he used to be.

He’s out of puff when he goes up hills.

He has to stop to take his pills.

He has arthritis in his knee.

He forgets to wear his glasses

When he reads a story to me.

 

Poor old grandad!

He has to sit down in a chair.

When I jump on his shoulders,

To hug him, and bug him,

I’ve noticed some gaps in his hair!

...

Read and leave comments (6)

childhood

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message