Biography of Cheryl McDonnell
I'm Cheryl,24 years old and from England. I have always enjoyed reading and writing, probably since I became aware of words and how they clicked perfectly in love with each other in a great poem.
I encourage critics to be honest about my works, everyone has room for improvement and I do not fear advice.
I hope you enjoy reading.
Cheryl McDonnell Poems
Hey Everyone, She’s Autistic!
Hey everyone look here It’s the girl with freaky hair Oh my little does she care This is an ode to freak shows
Your eyes burn me like a spitting fire I took one look, you looked inside The blue water healed the burns Left in line after taking my turn
Did anybody ever tell you The apple in your eye is rotten Encased with the loose ends And under us with the downtrodden
Bird Of The Small Hours.
When the air was silent And the trees slept still No wind a whispering It’s sullen winter chill
Among The Injika Trees
Set the sails into the smoke's swirling blow Dance with the lady as fast as she will go Listen up out and aloud There are alien words calling all around
Never another step of strength Shall pass my door while I am with you You are more powerful now So take flight
Ode To Big
All this technology Your service is an atrocity The lies tell themselves They are sold on your shelves
Up with the slow the quick and the dead Over the tiles and off with their heads Innocence is the devils smile One leap be a thousand miles
Let the days that showed you life subside Then it was time to be lead inside Where the curtains were drawn for the last time Your days on Earth to become only a shine
Along a dream Into the night Oh what it was like to be A pirate at sea
All I Have No Time For
Here is a place for all I have no time for So I made time for it here I lost myself looking for this place Which I have no time for
Behind The Wall
They like to hide Behind the wall From the autopsy tables To the front room floor
So I'm giving you a hard time Digging my way from this man made diamond mine Thoughts here are spared only for the people in the box We are all cogs in your machine and hands on your clocks
Plastic Yearning Tears
I cry plastic yearning tears to be released from these years My friends are in the sound they help heal the scars where I'm bound
Up with the slow the quick and the dead
Over the tiles and off with their heads
Innocence is the devils smile
One leap be a thousand miles
Come along now for we are late
Might just miss that special date
I remember the shop window
The beekeepers shop in the December snow