Life In The Wind

I wrote this poem for a conest when I was 12 years old, I think. It got published, I was so happy. Enjoy!

One day I saw what I did not want, as though it was a simple taunt.
It was of course some blackbird stew steaming lightly in the morning dew.
It boiled and smelt and smelt and boiled, to me it was a piece of foil.
My mother came in looking sad. I said to her "Where is dad?"
My mother sigh and told me this "Your father went to Kisskisskiss."
"He was at that club, the awful place and if you were there you'd have seen his face."
They were there, the cops in cars, and took him away in peices of tar.
He is there imrprisoned in jail and that is why we can't have ale.
I do not want for him to be dead so to honour that we will not have bread.
My tears leapt down from where they were and suddenly I heard a grrr.
Happily I went to check if it was on the deck.
I was so happy that one very day, my father was there in a sway.
I opened the door and turned to say: "Mother, mother, the wind has changed."
My mother ran to the door to find that my father was just bored.
My mother thanked the wind that day for changing in one small way.
I then spoke for true purpose there, and then I said: "But Father, what do you wear,
What do you eat, what do you put under your feet?"
My father said what I hoped he would, that could only tell me what he could.
He told me that you only wear stripes of black and white, black and white.
Then he and I stood up and said:
"It is now time to break the bread."

Author's Note

Please remember that I wrote this poem 7 years ago.

Reviews

[Rain]

thats is amazing! so deep! keep writing dont stop!

[Shannon]

This is an amazing poem far beyond the reach of an average 12 year old.
Marvelous work!
The flow was great, and the structure was amazing.
The poem subject as well truly struck a chord as i could feel the emotion in each word.
Great job!