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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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