Rare Secret

Well I'm not good at keeping secrets
I know I'm one who loves to share
And whenever something big happens
I talk as much as I dare
But I've got this one secret
That I'll never utter out loud
I'll never tell a single soul
And for this I feel so proud
Cause you see I'm no good at keeping secrets
I'm one who loves to share
But hiding this one major treasure
Makes me as happy as I dare

Please Stay

I dedicate this poem to a friend of mine.

You're in a dark place
With sense of no escape
Your heart is on a race
And your mouth is under tape
You just want it to end
To finally get some peace
Your will begins to bend
But just listen to me, please

Put the knife down
You can walk away
Don't let yourself drown
Stay with me, please stay

Your emotions are in a whirl
You don't know how to feel
You're just a small and frightened girl
Will you ever heal?
To be honest, I don't know
But it just doesn't matter
I know you're feeling low
But give up and my world will shatter

You think leaving will solve everything
That it will make the whole world right
But not for those left behind
You have to stay, I'll help you fight

So put the knife down
You can walk away
Don't let yourself drown
I'm begging you, please stay

Umbrella

The rain pelts down,
Washing away the warmth.
You begin to shiver,
As you fight against the storm.
You're walking up the road,
Trying to make it home
But the wind is just so strong
And you're soaked through to the bone
The rain comes down faster
It's impossible to dodge
You're cold, wet and tired
You're trekking through the slodge
Just as you feel defeated
And you stop with a big sigh
I pull out my blue umbrella
To protect you on this night

The Swing

I am thinking of using this for a poetry comp, so please give me your honest opinion :)

Sitting on the swing, deep in thought,
My toes brushing against the grass.
Moving backward, moving forward,
My mind has wandered too far
It feels like I've been on the swing forever,
Though I've been here for maybe half a day.
It's a place where I can sit and think,
When my mood is overly grey.
I am sitting on the rusty old swing,
A cool breeze blowing through my hair.
It reminds me that the world can be nice and calm,
Even though it's sometimes unfair.
Sitting on that swing, I wonder:
How long has it been here?
A single swing in a tiny park,
And an old tree is very near.
This little swing, aged and creaky,
Is in a suitable spot.
And I love to sit on this much loved swing,
Whether I'm happy or not.

Can't Let Them Down

It's been a tough day and I cannot wait to get home
Can't wait to shut my brain down
But before I am even halfway there
Up comes a friend who's feeling down
She is a mess, she needs my help
And of course I can't turn her down

My mind is a mess, it's in a whirl
I don't know what to do
I want to ask for help, for advice
But first I have to help you
And by the time I've listened and advised
And given all the help I can
My feelings have locked down, I can't talk
But I my God I wish I can
I know it's great people turn to me
I'm always happy to help
But there are just so many who need me
There's only so much I can do by myself

I always want to turn to someone
To let them know I'm hurting
But before I can, they turn to me
And of course I can't let them down

The Storm

I wrote this poem in year 8 for school


The rain beating against the roof
The wind howling through the trees
A crack of lightning cuts through the darkness
Thunder rumbling, grumbling through the sky
Like a giant who is kept awake by the storm

On the coast, the waves crash against the rocks
As if trying to escape onto land
The lighthouse desperately tries to save any boats that go astray
Seagulls' feathers are ruffled by the force of the wind

In town, there is the beautiful smell of water on tar
A powerline is defeated by nature's anger
Houses feebly protect the owners
And as it begins to hail, a car is wrecked

But where I live, in the country,
The rain is soaked up by the grass
The wind beats against the windows,
demanding to come in

And while the giant grumbles
And the lightning brightens up the night,
I sleep peacefully
Completely comfortable in the midst of the chaos

For the storm is my element, it is the weather that I love
It is the greatest music to my ears

Ken The Rooster

This is a poem I wrote with my mum once when I was young


Ken The Rooster

Ken had a life in suburbia,
But the neighbours didn’t like his crow.
He started up at 4am,
Just to let them know
The sun is coming up,
Get ready for a brand new day!
But the neighbours weren’t ready for a wakeup call,
They had him sent away!

So Ken came to us in a cardboard box,
To live with our free rangers.
We kept him separate for a while
Until the rangers were not strangers.
Ken was full of self-importance,
Although a scrawny little boy
He strutted up and down the fence,
As though a wound up toy.


He was a little Belgium bantam,
All the way from town you see,
He was black, with white specks on him
His wings were quite droop-ie
Ken was half the size of all the hens,
But did not seem to care,
He wanted to get amongst those girls
He thought it was not fair


And so we let him in,
With all the bigger hens,
He could strut around night ‘n’ day,
Then start all over again.
Ken started crowing at 4 am
But we all just ignored him.
He thought that he was the king, the boss,
That all the girls adored him.
We hadn’t the heart to tell him the truth,
Out there in the paddocks of home,
That that poor little guy
Had short man’s syndrome.

Then the tragedy happened,
It made us oh so blue.
We found that Ken could not be found,
We knew that it was true.
The great big carpet snake,
That had been eating all our eggs,
Took Ken away for dinner
And ate those scrawny legs


We miss that little rooster,
That cute little guy,
So if you ever own a rooster
Be careful!
… The snake may come say hi!