childrens poetry
Nostalgia-inducing poetry inspired by our earliest favorites; from Dr. Seuss to Mother Goose, children’s poetry is all grown up.
The Space Between
There’s a hush in the room— a sacred silence when she sleeps. Not peace, but a question, a pause in the middle of myself. The books lie open, unwritten. The page waits. The words I once longed to drown in stand still, like strangers in the hall, while I hover near—unsure if I should enter. I used to know myself in chapters, in sentences, in deadlines and degrees. Now I measure time in naps, in cries, in the soft weight of her needing me. And I wonder— if I gave my whole heart to the page, would I resent the tiny hands that pull me away? Would I ache for what I couldn’t finish, or learn to breathe in the fragments? Maybe this is the work. Not the stories left undone, but the soul—undone and remade in the quiet surrender of being hers. I mourn the girl who chased bylines, whose name meant something on paper. But I honor the woman who answers to Mama, who finds strength in lullabies and long nights. Sacrifice isn’t glamorous. It’s silent. Lonely. Slow. It’s the stretching of spirit in a world that doesn’t clap for what no one sees. But growth was never meant to feel like glory. It feels like letting go, again and again— and trusting that losing yourself might be how you find something far more whole.
By Carolina Borges2 years ago in Poets
My Beloved Bicycle
Elijah was a child in a small village. Elijah's village was very beautiful, surrounded by green mountains on all sides. He had an old but lovely bicycle. His father had gifted him that bicycle on his seventh birthday. Elijah lovingly called it "Dynamo".
By The Content Crafter2 years ago in Poets
Eternal Goodbye: A Love That Never Fades
Lena and Kieran were soulmates, bound by a love so deep it felt like the universe had crafted them from the same star. From the moment their eyes met, they knew—no one else would ever understand them the way they understood each other. Their love was a wildfire, consuming and beautiful, but fate had other plans. Kieran was sick, his body failing him day by day. The doctors said there was no cure, only time—precious, slipping sand. Lena held his trembling hands, her tears falling onto their intertwined fingers. "I can't live without you," she whispered. Kieran’s voice was weak but firm. "Then don’t." They had made a promise long ago—if one were to leave, the other would follow. Not out of despair, but because their souls refused to be parted. The world without the other was a hollow, colorless place, a half-life neither could bear. On the last night, they lay together under the stars, the same way they had when they first confessed their love. Kieran’s breathing was shallow, his grip on Lena’s hand weakening. She pressed her forehead to his, her heart breaking and mending all at once. "I’m scared," he admitted. Lena kissed him softly. "I’ll be right behind you." As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Kieran’s chest stilled. Lena didn’t weep; she smiled. She took the small vial from her pocket, the one she had prepared weeks ago. The poison was bitter, but the thought of eternity without him was worse. She lay beside him, her fingers laced with his, and closed her eyes. The pain was brief, but the peace that followed was endless. When they were found, their bodies were curled together, faces serene. Two hearts that had loved too deeply to beat apart. In death, as in life, they were unbroken. And somewhere beyond the stars, their souls danced, finally free
By Kaushal Kumar 2 years ago in Poets
