Zoe Allen – A Collection of Poems

Beige ( a place called school) 

Day by day go on, cracking dawn with blinding light 

Till the break of dust, right before the sharks decide thrust 

Weeks by weeks 

Filled with defeats 

Tests are all way too hard. Just like the concret

Affects my self-esteem way too far. 

Teachers say not to fear 

For They will always be here. 

Being a follower is never encouraged 

Until another opinion decides to furnish our minds like a love seat for two, confined in a reposed position.

Creativity is being squashed 

Before young healthy minds can even yelp ahh 

Studying 

Study, and  study, till you go off to collage 

Filling my brain up with all of this “knowledge”

Yes I will know how to read and write 

But will I Know how to fight 

Will I know how to cook and clean 

Just like a woman should supposed to be 

So in the end 

Will all this knowledge 

Really help me 

Go off to collage 

The path not yet taken:

Ever since I was little 

My mind has always been fitful 

Wanting to explore every crystal 

The luscious juniper trees scatter all along the road

Way too far to see even on my tip toes 

I gaze slowly upon the dancing mountains 

Till the sun decides to vanishe 

Traveling 

Dust spread along the gravely path 

Being careful not to splat 

Months by months go on

Waiting for someone to come along 

The next chapter in life 

Beyond the crack brick frame 

With columns so high 

There is a story waiting to say hi 

A story of a family 

All cute and oh so simple 

But there is so  much more to that

Waiting to mingle 

A girl sits at her windowsill 

Writing in her room 

Waiting for her family to bear her a good due 

Because that is what makes a house a home 

Not the old mangled fireplace 

Or the cracked old floorboards that creek whenever one makes a step

But the people who make up the home Are the ones who do it the best 

Out In the garden 

Out In the garden 

Where the tulips lay 

Come along a small doe 

Waiting to play 

The doe quickly scampers along 

At the sight of a women waving a baton 

The house of that women 

All tall and all frail

Once lived in the house 

Of that little small girl 

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