Teen Poems - Angst and other thoughts of a teenager
My Man in the Moon
For one final time
I consulted my friend
For comfort in his golden glow.
I glanced dreamily up
To my Man in the Moon,
To ask where my childhood would go.
And He tenderly wrapped me
In warm, loving light –
I knew then not to cry.
As he pointed unto
The great life all around Him,
Right there, I understood why.
A stage, a progression,
A power of time
Is age, and we can only follow.
Yet my Man in the Moon
Taught me optimism
And I no longer felt sad or hollow.
I will greet my new life
With a smile and with hope,
And my soul will play a happy tune.
From child to adult
I will blaze in gold light,
With my old friend, the Man in the Moon.
Published: 1998 by Anchor Books in ‘Poets from Yorkshire 1998’
Who’d Be a Teen?
Teen years,
Teen tears,
And new teenage fears…
Who’d be a Teen? I would.
Teen wear,
Teen hair,
Pubescent Teen: “It’s not fair!”…
Who’d be a Teen. I can.
Teen yobs,
Teen slobs,
Schooling Teen Summer jobs…
Who’d be a Teen? I am.
Teen beers,
Teen cheers,
Student Teen Loan arrears!…
Who’d be a Teen? I still am.
My last Teen seconds,
Twenty beckons,
Life without Teens I must reckon…
Who’d be a Teen?
I was.
The Life Of My Time.
Never again will I see this world
Through the innocent eyes of a child.
For Time has Marched
That life from me,
As it did, I cried, and smiled.
No more in my happy, niave young eyes
Will the sun sparkle out my youth.
For Time now allows me
Only a sweet memory
As I turn to face life's truth.
Star Awes.
Squinting down, emitting it's thin trickle
Of silver blood,
Peers a lonely star.
And I below, gaze back
At the timid young life above,
Trying mightily to shine like those around.
I stare in relation and see
A parallel life,
As for a brief moment
Distance is but a space.
And I am close, at one,
Transfixed in silent conversation
With He so winsome, so beautiful,
So near; the chilled ice shine
Burning my glistening eyes.
My friend pours out his vast, pearly carpet
And it fills me, I share it's grace,
And feel it's enigma, as the star's soul
Flows down the glittering road towards me.
Time ceases it's powerful surge,
Life is good, the universe small...
But Reality!
Nothing more false, and the blazing
Twilight trail retreats.
The vacuum is once more
And I am empty:
Void of free love and natural
White warmth; the fierce cold heat
Of life burns dark.
And I squint back.
All poetry on this page is © Jonathan Fitzgerald and is the sole property of its owner.
It may not be used or reproduced without the author's expressed, written and signed permission.
All images are either personally designed or thought to be freeware.
Email: jonathan@poeticjustice.co.uk
