Jack Growden

Rookie - 284 Points (1997 / Townsville, Australia)

Jack Growden Poems

1. The 'Chapel 3/21/2013
2. The Captain's Brutal Night 3/21/2013
3. Caged 3/21/2013
4. The Angel 4/10/2013
5. Journey Throughout The Empire - Part 1 4/10/2013
6. Autumn Leaves 5/8/2013
7. Brelles - French Version 7/27/2013
8. Down By Mavers Hill 7/27/2013
9. Life And Chess 7/27/2013
10. Dearest Nelly 10/10/2013
11. Mournful Lament 10/11/2013
12. Driftwood At Sunset 10/15/2013
13. Fletcher 10/16/2013
14. The Pointless Verse 10/16/2013
15. Midnight Fever 10/16/2013
16. Escaping Port Arthur 10/16/2013
17. Beneath One Sky 10/17/2013
18. Evening Contemplation 10/22/2013
19. Always 11/6/2013
20. Yours 1/11/2014
21. Thunder 2/9/2014
22. Simpler Minds 2/15/2014
23. Four White Walls 2/27/2014
24. February 3/20/2014
25. Fall From Grace 3/27/2014
26. In Conclusion 3/27/2014
27. The Cathedral 3/28/2014
28. The Brutal Full-Back 7/26/2013
29. The Willow 8/2/2013
30. If You Forget Me 1/4/2014
31. The Candle 1/4/2014
32. Finality 4/4/2014
33. Tear-Shaped Lake 4/5/2014
34. Owing To Ink 4/5/2014
35. Lessons From The Graveyard 4/19/2014
36. Maples 4/19/2014
37. No Certainty 4/19/2014
38. Bidding Adieu 4/23/2014
39. What Is A Week? 4/28/2014
40. Lavender Fields 4/28/2014
Best Poem of Jack Growden

Walk In My Shoes

I invite you just this once -
To take a walk in my shoes.
With an eye to detail,
Please observe and peruse
My choice through these eyes
Instead of your tainted views.

In fact, forget the offer,
Rather I plainly request
That you live a life like mine -
One considerably blessed -
Before you decide to judge
And claim that you know it best.

Indeed, I flatly demand,
Firm as a rigid decree,
Until you do what I do
And see all of what I see
Be careful not to come to
Rushed conclusions about me.

So heed and consider
These wise ...

Read the full of Walk In My Shoes

Autumn Leaves

Alas, it has been a season of yawns and weary sighs,
Each and every morning met with dreary eyes;
The sluggish shuffles; the weight of the world upon;
Several moons have waned since hope has shone.

Far too many dawns have passed, it must be confessed,
Which have been welcomed without an inkling of zest.
All that remains is a grim incessant strain
As you see all your vigour trickle down life's drain.

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