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Poems by A. Smith

"Walls"

There are walls, 4 walls

Thick walls, built with bricks

Theres a ceiling, 1 ceiling

It's high, built with concrete

There are doors, 4 doors

Locked doors, built with solid steel

Theres me, just me

All alone, built with flesh and blood

The walls, the ceiling

The doors, built by me alone

The walls, the thick walls

Too thick to break through

The ceiling, 1 ceiling

Too high to break through

The doors, the 4 doors

Locked doors

I lost the keys

I built the walls thick for fun

I built the ceiling high to be difficult

I lost the keys to the doors out of stupidity

Inside these walls, beneath this ceiling

Behind these doors

I'll find the keys, and I'll open the door

Walk through the door

Leave the high ceiling and thick concrete walls

And find new walls, new ceilings

And new doors.

By A. Smith

"A Shooting Star"

There was a shooting star on Luck Street tonight

The boy at number 21 wished he didn't have to go to school the next day

The girl at number 36 wished that the boy at number 3 would ask her out

The boy at number 59 wished he could be just like his older brother

The girl at number 73 wished her Mum would by her a new dress

The boy outside number 85 wished he had a house to wish inside of !

By A. Smith

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