We invite you to read some of these poems featured in current and recent issues of KidSpirit Magazine and welcome online poetry submissions from teen writers and readers around the world.

Sounds of Silence

by Sunwrita Dastidar

She had never known Silence could be so loud. As she saw people in long cloaks Talking and working, hurried and busy The scene of a commotion And yet, she could hear nothing An oppressing stillness blanketed everything Suffocating, gasping for breath The world dwindled in darkness And a silence so loud, it could turn

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First Snow

by Liza Makarova

White like linen, pure Untouched Snow lays on the ground It’s beautiful and treasured First snows come and go Every year. But what about the first snow The first snow ever? A young infant, so pure Innocent Goes out to explore The wonder that is snow She touches it She laughs, It’s cold and soft

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Biking Up a Hill

by Victoria Rathernottell

Pumping, pumping, pumping Legs aching, muscles bursting Panting, panting, panting Wind whisking past my face Gasping, gasping, gasping For a precious breathe of air Flying, flying, flying Down a twisting maze Enjoying freedom’s flight Peddling, peddling, peddling Onto victory ground Victoria Rathernottell

It Ended at Wounded Knee

by Will Hodgkinson

It all ended that bitter December day at Wounded Knee, where the wind perpetually blew across the great frozen expanse of prairie, barren and remorseless. Eddies of snow propelled by the frigid current. The sky, a savage blue, arcs high above, the sun’s glare merciless. The camp lies huddled, cowering against the scouring gale. The

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Pure Love

by Gertie Zwick-Schachter

She is more than a dog She is the world to me, the one who is allowed To sleep beside me — she Who’s wet nose is forever a favorite memory Who listens intimately to all I say The sweet murmur of Her whine, the contented Sigh that makes my own Heart beat fast If

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No One Is Singing

by Omar Samih

No one in my city is singing but the kings of this land. People go to the streets just to get sprayed the scars showing their kids never to parade against the king or you will be like me No one in my city is singing but me. I might be small but my courage

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On Progress

by Swastika Jajoo

I tread slowly On an uneven path; A path of bitter Sweetness, a path Of simple complexity. Hushed shadows of the Past stillness linger Around me. Hello? Are You still here? I want To ask you for directions. Can you show me The way? But I Do not know what I am looking for. Do

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The One Percent Mansion

by Will Hodgkinson

The golden bars of sunlight fall over the green velvet lawns and hit the windows of the mansion, turning them into winking jewels. In the bedroom, the Master awakes. He pulls back his silk sheets and calls the valet, who helps him out of his brocade robe. He showers and shaves in the bathroom with

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Outlooked Intentions

by Charlotte Rauner

Levelheaded mess with outlooked intentions. But there was an artistic boy, who had visionless looks directly to the observant secretly collecting hope. Excluded from the inclusive, the girl had a pressure against ubiquity. A beauty who never met attention she was stripped comfort. But there was an artistic boy deep into no one’s reality seeing

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I See The Night

by Maya Mesh

When the night comes Time has stopped The air gets thicker My vision fogs If I try to fight it No, I will not try to fight it That is one battle I cannot win Better to not even start So, if you my dear friend Who walks among the light See the sun going

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