When I wrote this poem, I was listening to very old classic music. The music made me feel old and wonder what it would feel like to lead an old life. Now that I think about it, I am not looking forward to it. I chose to write about Mr. Rogers because he is what popped into my head the time I was listening to the music. I just started imagining myself in his shoes. I did not like it. I got to thinking of all the little things that he did on his show like feeding the fish, the mailman, and his train stuff. It got me thinking of me when I was a little kid. I used to watch that show quite a bit.

This poem was written by me, Rachel, (Age 15). I wrote it after my own real experiences visiting many of the Parish Churches of Cornwall, England. Many of my ancestors lived there. If you happen to have an ancestor from the Penna line that lived around Rose, e- mail me. Perhaps we can share some genealogy.

A laid back Southern California poet's journey to low life land.

Uncovering the secrets of an ancient hotel lobby, I take the reader through the lobby and paint a picture with words. The reader can use their own imagination to solve the rest.

A symbolic look at the inner feeling of people using a contrast of hot decor and cool weather to explore feelings.

This is a poem that I wrote at the end of a turbulent relationship. It helped me understand just what exactly was wrong with the whole relationship, him not accepting who I am and what I stand for. If people don't accept you for who you are, it is their problem, not yours, and you shouldn't change yourself for anybody.

I was talking to a writer friend and I told him how much I love champagne. "Write about it", he said. Good idea I thought. When I sat down to write about my favorite cocktail, all I could think of were the celebrations and events over the years I have spent with my husband and our family. All the clinking glasses and cheers and tears, flowing with champagne.

My name is Chanelle DeWinter and I am a regular of this website. One day, as I was reading some poems online, my little brother, who is 10 years old, just handed me a poem he wrote and asked me if I would post it with mine. I told him that this site is for adults, but he gave me such a cute grin; he looked like a sad puppy, so I had to share it with all of you.

This poem was written when I found out that my mother had died when I was born. I was ten years old and it had been kept a secret from me all those years. My step mother and my father didn't tell me either; I found out by myself.

An unknowing of the day that's passing - An unknowing of what is to come, and a silent cry in the heart for paradise - An unknowing in the heart, the long wait...