Missing Possibilities

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem is about the change from being a child to growing up. A change from being naive to knowledgeable perhaps. As always with my poetry, i want you to relate to it in your own way, so each person may interpret it their own way :)

Submitted: February 09, 2013

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Submitted: February 09, 2013




I settled on my Gran’s dilute lap,

An unfledged sprog acquiring comprehensive love.

I frolicked with my Crayola’s,

As she instilled her knowledge of penning upon me.

Hugged by a floral frock and beaded bands,

I focused my attention on Shakespeare’s labour.

As I embraced my Gran,

Teasing the inherent, ruddy waves of mine, she continued reciting.

Unconscious, I was jubilant,

Revering on the many possibilities.


I now nestle at a cold place called home.

An assailable juvenile being judged by ‘friends’.

I sign-in to witness malicious notes from churlish beings,

Roaming the online world, driving innocence to suicide.

Crayola’s no more, I desperately clench a Bic,

And apply myself to paper, clinging to my sanity.

My Gran’s no longer as I locomote to my bunk,

Where I indulge in such metaphors.

But now I lie alert,

Where have all the possibilities gone?

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