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.

The Devil’s Workshop

by Sunwrita Dastidar

She tries to drown in bottles of deceiving darkness, floundering in empty hopes, spinning threadbare yarns of dreary despair. A maniacal laugh plasters onto her pain, sucking out color like a bloated leech, hungry for dreaded delight. Wheels whir and needles knit knots, clicking in desperate apathy. Tangled thoughts run wild like frenzied weeds, strangling

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Happiness: Abstract Yet So Real

by Yashashree Ghatge

Happiness is a gentle breeze, calm, cool, and healing; it relaxes my tensed brain and eases my pain. Happiness is a soft melody that hovers in fragments over my mind; Happiness is an ocean of joy, ceaseless and all-encompassing. Happiness is rain softly drizzling, silently speaking to us, telling us stories, asking us to bridge

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Ode to Sorrow

by Zaki Andoh

Sorrow Whispers In your ear Thoughts Of defeat — You’re a failure! She may Be relieving At the time But don’t Give in To Sorrow. She spins Her webs of sadness, Wrapping around Your heart Her eight Thin legs, Crawling through your soul. She feeds On your despair, Poisoning your mind. A depression in Your

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Tales of the Indecisive

by Maya Mesh

I cannot find my happiness? I believe I misplaced it. I’m sure I am sure, but then again I don’t know. Well perhaps it’s in the trees With the humming birds and the leaves. Wait! I think I can see it, Oh no, that was just a dream. Supposedly it’s in music, in the rhythmic

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A Moment

by Gertie-Pearl Zwick-Schachter

August 4, 2014 12:20 I roll onto my side, the grass damp and prickly on my bare legs. A speckled monarch flits across a hydrangea-leaf sky. The breeze tousles the rosebushes, sighs, then rests. Nature’s beauty draws me in, but my own drowsiness, like the reel of a fishing rod, pulls me back. I let

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On a Question

by Himadri Agarwal

The other day, I began to ask people what made them happy. I heard of dinner dates and bookshelves, of baby’s laughs and rainbows that curl over the sky and wink at the passers-by, Of cups of coffee and Taylor Swift, of earphones, gaming consoles and children that look straight at you and never stop

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View of a Lilac

by Victoria Krylova

I’m a sweet thing Deprived of a soul, Hidden from wisdom’s prudent search; Softly pasturing life’s garden, Bedecking the coolness of streams, Strewn over the grasslands I sprout, I flourish Held safe in God’s care Blossoms prospering, Leaves waxing greener, Splashes of color Love’s clearest language When parchment fades, When roses wilt, Elegant lilac, seed

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Mythical Magic

by Jaileah Milton

It’s not something you can see or hear; But it gives you some sort of drive. It’s like your five senses disappear; The more you want it, the more you strive. We held on to it for as long as we could; But we had some growing up to do. Was it all imagination? We

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The Land of Myth

by Himadri Agarwal

“Where am I?” I wonder, as I stand trapped between truth and lies, fact and fiction, in the no man’s land they call myth. And I move forward past the comics they gave us as children — illustrated depictions by artistic magicians who bring a world to life.   Past the stories on Sunday morning

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by Eliza Moore

Here is this great multitude of sky. And suddenly little darkened, precarious bodies dart across it, All perfectly grouped together, A little mass of beating wings. Why are they not scattered like stars? There is plenty of room, little birds. Why do you not break away from your crowded chaos, And free yourselves? You have

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