P
Philiboy
Guest
This is my really long poem I wrote based on something that happened to me when I was about 7 i think. I made it so that every other line kind of make a story about what happens when you do things you've been told not to. Please give me good suggestions! My first long poem.
Fire
When I was young I played with fire,
Whether it be with matches, lighters, or gasoline,
It did not matter.
I heard the frequent lectures,
About playing with fire,
But I did not listen.
“Do not play with matches! You’ll catch something on fire!”
The more and more I heard just increased the desire.
One winter afternoon,
I just couldn’t resist,
With that crackling fire
And nobody around.
I took an empty paper towel roll
And carefully lit the end.
“They were wrong. This is fun! Nothing bad will happen,”
I thought to myself,
While watching the innocent flame.
The warmth it gave me felt great.
I immediately trusted that flickering light,
So I brought the other end of the tube to my eye.
When I looked inside I realized my mistake.
I yelped as the burning heat and smoke filled my eye
I accidentally dropped the tube when I covered up my eye.
The source of the warmth I had trusted grew
As it caught the carpet on fire.
I panicked as rushed to the kitchen.
I grabbed a glass of water and dumped it on the flame.
It quickly went out, but the damage was done.
I threw the rest of the roll in the fire,
And tried to cover up what I had done.
Now that black mark was permanently engraved,
The charred carpet
Evidence of what I had done
My father soon found the mark,
And asked me if I did it.
I lied but he could see in my eye
The guilt that black mark had embedded in my conscience.
He took me into his room
Where my punishment was waiting.
Pow! The belt came down upon me.
Tears streaming down my cheeks,
My father said to me,
“Don’t ever play with fire!
Think of what you’ve done.”
That was when I realized
Playing with fire is not much fun.
I forgot to say i'm only 13 so don't be harsh!
This is a rough draft so it still needs work
Yeah I noticed the repeditive part. I'll work on it.
Fire
When I was young I played with fire,
Whether it be with matches, lighters, or gasoline,
It did not matter.
I heard the frequent lectures,
About playing with fire,
But I did not listen.
“Do not play with matches! You’ll catch something on fire!”
The more and more I heard just increased the desire.
One winter afternoon,
I just couldn’t resist,
With that crackling fire
And nobody around.
I took an empty paper towel roll
And carefully lit the end.
“They were wrong. This is fun! Nothing bad will happen,”
I thought to myself,
While watching the innocent flame.
The warmth it gave me felt great.
I immediately trusted that flickering light,
So I brought the other end of the tube to my eye.
When I looked inside I realized my mistake.
I yelped as the burning heat and smoke filled my eye
I accidentally dropped the tube when I covered up my eye.
The source of the warmth I had trusted grew
As it caught the carpet on fire.
I panicked as rushed to the kitchen.
I grabbed a glass of water and dumped it on the flame.
It quickly went out, but the damage was done.
I threw the rest of the roll in the fire,
And tried to cover up what I had done.
Now that black mark was permanently engraved,
The charred carpet
Evidence of what I had done
My father soon found the mark,
And asked me if I did it.
I lied but he could see in my eye
The guilt that black mark had embedded in my conscience.
He took me into his room
Where my punishment was waiting.
Pow! The belt came down upon me.
Tears streaming down my cheeks,
My father said to me,
“Don’t ever play with fire!
Think of what you’ve done.”
That was when I realized
Playing with fire is not much fun.
I forgot to say i'm only 13 so don't be harsh!
This is a rough draft so it still needs work
Yeah I noticed the repeditive part. I'll work on it.