My parents divorced when I was 10, and at that time I stupidly had a boyfriend, who abused me and I walked home every day with bruises and a new lie. I am now 15 and am strugling with getting away from my abusive mother who drinks herself to sleep every night. I am planning on moving to New York when I am 18. I write poems to get thing off my chest. And I quite honestly don't care who reads them. more »
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Brookelyn Walker Poems
'A Little Book of Poems'
Filled up like the sea, One that none shall see. A little book of maddness, That is filled with saddness.
She is staring out the window again. Looking at something distant. Past the parking lot. Past the trees.
Yellowed pages; Thin and frail. Yellowed pages; Tell my tale. Yellowed pages; Keep my secrets. Hiding in plain sight
Me? I Am Free
In this world, I quite honestly think That there is no such thing as 'perfect' If there was, I'd be anythin' but that, I'd be me, Yeah, I'd be me,
Lakeside Veiw of Life
The Lake was aflame in the bright morning sun, The Trees whispered, telling to run. I took a step, then another, Quickened pace in both fear and haste.
This doesn't help I don't care anymore. Haven't for a while now. I'm not okay.
I got angry, At someone I didn't know. I mistook a guy,
Description of a Girl.
Can't you see the bags under her eyes? The way that she stays up so late at night? Can't you see the way she cries Not too hard, so, so light?
Mr. Musican - Why Didn't I Listen?
Curtains Pulled apart at the conductors command. Sheets
She stays up far too late. She wakes up far too late. He stays there far too late. He leaves there far too late.
Why did I have to fall in love with him? Why does he look this way and smile? Why does his affection seem to smother me? And then why does he suddenly turn cold?
Rebel For Me
She walked up. They asked her last words. For everyone to hear. She said, in a coarse whisper
Dark brown eyes hold no lies, But the person behind them does. She tries to hide, stupidly thinking That the pain will subside
There is No Reason
Why do the birds fly? Because there is no reason. Why do I not try? Because there is no reason.
Comments about Brookelyn Walker
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
'A Little Book of Poems'
Filled up like the sea,
One that none shall see.
A little book of maddness,
That is filled with saddness.
A bittersweet book of poems.
So come, come sit by the hearth,
Come, come and read.
You will see just how splendid
This book of poems can be.