My name is Alicia, I'm 15 years of age, and my dream is to become an author.
I started writing my very first book (not really good *lol) at age 12, and I published my very first collection of poems at age 13. I've been writing poetry ever since I could remember. When I was old enough to understand pieces of poetry and know what's going on in a book, I fell in love with the idea of becoming an author someday. You can read chapters of books on facebook; Alicia M. Meyers's Author page. more »
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Alicia Meyers Poems
Walking through the woods, In the middle of December, While snow was on the ground, I remember.
some people are a distraction, Our world is coming to a distruction, Everyone is a corruption, Needing a revolution.
Drowning In Tears Of Sorrow
Slipping away, Drowning in tears of sorrow, Laughing all day, Until the end of tomorrows.
You see that little chubby girl, Trying to do the splits, She very quiet, But yet nice.
Memory (Thy Shall)
Thy shall not slumber, Thy shall not wake, A memory so fragile, So delicate it may break.
Falling Over Nothing But Air
I look over my shoulder, And I see you staring at me, I look back at my friends, And I see them giggling.
I Hate You
You kissed my cheek, Said I was pretty, Said I was only yours, And everything.
I hold my breath, And force myself to breathe, I take another step, And then I'm close to being free.
I'm scared that if you love me, That's when I show it, You will cheat, And I won't know it.
And I believe, That I will be, The one who says, Goodbye.
I'm crying sadness, I'm crying fears, I'm crying a heartach, And wanting no tears.
I've been bullied for 9 years in a row, I've had my true friends, And my fake friends and all around, But of course; I've had my enimies.
I gotta climb another mountain, I gotta keep my faith on going, I just gotta get to the other side, I can't hide.
In this small room, I feel crazy, Very chlostrophobic, Going up or down.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
Walking through the woods,
In the middle of December,
While snow was on the ground,
I was wearing my red cape,
With my blue and white dress,
Once the fight began,
It was such a mess.
A wolf came my way,
As he grawled at my feet,
Until another wolf came,
And it looked like they had a whole pack for me to meet.
Most of them came to me and were nice,
But then another wolf pack came and started fighting,
It wasn't good so I ran,
But one wolf followed and started biting.
He snatched at me,
And made me bleed,...