Free verse poems by teens on a variety of topics | Teen Ink
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#145911voted by our readers
Sugar and Spice
By quinna BRONZE
Malibu, California

I don’t know where the idea that girls are made of “sugar and spice and everything nice” came from. I am not made of sugar and spice and everything that is nice, I am made of the...
quinna BRONZE, Malibu, California
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
work until your idols become your rivals

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#145912 Poetry
Will anxiety ever end?
By anovak21 GOLD
Colgate, Wisconsin
anovak21 GOLD, Colgate, Wisconsin
14 articles 0 photos 0 comments
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#145913 Poetry
Shelled
By Babie PLATINUM
Modesto, California
Babie PLATINUM, Modesto, California
30 articles 0 photos 58 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I Hate Kid's I have to many realitives.....ahhhhh!"

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#145914 Poetry
Oh Daddy. .
By Anonymous
#145915 Poetry
Another Depressing Poem by a Happy Girl
By GAEM. GOLD
Manton, California
GAEM. GOLD, Manton, California
17 articles 8 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
What you egg! Young fry of treachery! <br /> [he stabs him]<br /> --William Shakespeare

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#145916 Poetry
Sandy Steps
By NicoleHentrup BRONZE
Jasper, Indiana
NicoleHentrup BRONZE, Jasper, Indiana
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments
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#145917 Poetry
A Football Dream
By tcarr15 BRONZE
Newark, New Jersey
tcarr15 BRONZE, Newark, New Jersey
1 article 0 photos 0 comments
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#145918 Poetry
He is a Liar
By kat2813 BRONZE
Greer, South Carolina
kat2813 BRONZE, Greer, South Carolina
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments
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#145919 Poetry
To love a Man
By Mika_E. SILVER
Irving, Texas
Mika_E. SILVER, Irving, Texas
7 articles 1 photo 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;Fall seven times, stand up eight.&quot; -Japanese proverb

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#145920 Poetry
Past, Present, Future
By Jhoffman BRONZE
Chicago, Illinois
Jhoffman BRONZE, Chicago, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
“But now, for the first time, I see you are a man like me. I thought of your hand-grenades, of your bayonet, of your rifle; now I see your wife and your face and our fellowship. Forgive me, comrade. We always see it too late. Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, that your mothers are just as anxious as ours, and that we have the same fear of death, and the same dying and the same agony--Forgive me, comrade; how could you be my enemy?” <br /> ― Erich Maria Remarque, All Quiet on the Western Front

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