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A Poem Is This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   I sat by the sandy shores of the beach

I watched the sun rise to its peak

I watched people young and old

I watched them play Aill the sun grew cold

And ran away to make day in another place

I sat and watched in silent wait

But the poems never came.



I woke up early and took a walk

I went to my favorite childhood park

I waited in the quiet darkness just before dawn

I watched the birds awake and chirp their morning song

I watched as the park began to fill

With children of all sizes, and still

I waited.

I watched them laugh, I watched them play

Till night approached and swallowed up the day

Still I waited

But the poems never came.



I sit in my room alone sometimes

And the wind, she whispers her secrets to the night

Her poems.

I sit in my room alone sometimes

And the moon, she fills my world with light

Her poem.

I sit in my room alone sometimes

And cry till the dawn chases away the night

My poem.



Poems aren't made

Poems aren't found

Poems don't come

Poems just are.



A poem isn't just a bird in flight

Or a brightly shining star at night

A poem is a passion, deeply felt

It springs from the heart and nowhere else.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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