toys
Learn more about other poetry terms
Christmas is not only about joyIt is also about getting new toysIt is about enjoying lifeThough not solely about nice gifts.
Her big brown eyes stare up at me with gladness, her cuddles and kisses takeaway my sadness. Her favorite thing in life is her toy. Its amazing how furbabies give us such joy.
I have a person in mind while I write this poem
She battled cancer for years and at first she won
But like the return of a storm and the vengeance of a brother,
when it came around again it overcame and overtook her.
In a land of misfit toys
I stand alone
but at first you would not think, for i am surrounded
When they left their toys in the yard, my mind went insane.
wouldnt your mom beat you?
and your dad...teach you a lesson?
your sister yell?
your brother get stomped on?
There I was, yet there I wasn'tFor they neither saw me or knew where I hidThe shadow's hostage; the dustmite's captiveI feared "I'm forgotten" despite what I didAlas, they still call me
