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Lion in a Cage
You sit there alone in jail Like a lion in a cageAway from the jungleWhere a lion wants to be.
Maybe this will be enough To make you see What losing you Felt like to me.
by Kennard, age 11 |
In front of God and everybody You told the court of God and everybody, Mama! I believe that pushed us all aside. Mama! |
Current Venues The poetry of children who've experienced tragedy and loss is often haunting, as well as redemptive and inspiring. We've chosen samples from 5 volumes of poetry currently in print. You can get one copy of each volume free of charge by going to our Free Publications Page and checking the appropriate boxes. You can buy more copies of these poetry books by going to Order Online with your credit card. Each additional volume is $5. All proceeds support children at HCYR, and the arts program that serves them. Please visit The Children Music Project to see how we use the poetry to develop and record songs. |
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I Wonder I wonder . . . if my mother is . . . DEAD? (I act like I don’t care, but I do.) I wonder . . . if she ever thinks about me anymore? I wonder if she talks about me anymore? I wonder . . . where she is right now. I wonder . . . if she has a boyfriend. I wonder and wonder and wonder, but I never get any answers or even a sign. by Jamie, age 13 |
Mother, Will You Come Back? Mother, will you come back? I’m scared you won’t. Why did you leave me in the first place? You said you might come back, but you didn’t. Do you care if you make us cry? Do you care for us at all? Please come back.
Mother, will you come back? |
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You Left Me You left me a bent photograph And something heavier than lead to carry forever in my head, when you left me wondering why you would rather be dead than be my mother.
by Michael, age 10
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The Snake Heroin is a snake. It will bite you and hurt you, and hurt the ones that love you, and take away all the things you love. The snake will poison your body and mind, Then it will kill you and not even care. My mother found the snake when she was twelve. Thinking it was friendly, she took it home with her. She kept it and cared for it, for twenty years. Then the snake killed her. |
She SaidShe said she would come to watch me play football someday and she said she got another letter from Daddy in prison and she wanted us to listen to her and not do what she had done with her life and to stay away from drugs and she said she would stop and she said they didn’t allow dogs so we couldn’t have a puppy she said our house was too small and we would get a better one someday and she said I was growing up too fast and she wanted me to be something, not like her, she said she loved me and to eat my vegetables and she said I should watch out for my little brothers and keep my fingernails cleanShe said she’d come to visit on Sunday, or maybe Friday Sometime in December. She said she had stopped drugs She never said good-bye |
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Butterfly MotherI still remember her. Her name was Nancy and she liked to listen to music. She loved horses and swimming.
I still remember her. Her name was Nancy and she was very very beautiful. She liked to buy me things.
I still remember her. As I go from place to place, she stays with me in my heart.
I remember her smile. She was like a nice beautiful Butterfly Mother. And she flew away.
by Anita, age 14 |
Back to Color
The whole world was black when my dad killed my mom.
I felt like I was coming to an end, too. No one to live for.
Then one day my Self came back into the world.
And so did the colors.
by Lori, age 14
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ToysMy mom is just a child
trapped in a child’s mind.
And my sister
and me . . .
we’re the broken toys
she left behind.
by Daisy, age 13
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Angie Angie was so tiny . . . my newborn sister.
I don’t know why she cried and cried that night.
Daddy yelled at Mama that if she didn’t shut her up then he would.
Angie kept on crying.
Daddy took her to the bathroom and put her tiny head in hot water. by Jennifer, age 14 |
Alone I remember the first night. I remember the exact time . . . There were many times after that.
I remember the days alone.
Why did you do it? You hurt me. You left a scar in my heart - You can’t even see it, but it will always be there.
Why did you rape me? Didn’t you see I was only seven?
Alone . . . alone . . . alone.
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Sometimes Before the state took us When I was seven, Mark was four, Mercedes was three, Cassie was one, And Angie was a baby . . . Before then, They left us at home alone a lot . . . Sometimes for days. I was the oldest, So I took care of everyone. Sometimes I had to go ask the neighbors for food. Sometimes I didn’t go to school. Sometimes I was tired. Sometimes I was scared. Sometimes I didn’t know what to do. |
