Biography of >Starr Williams<
Hey everyone! Im 14 and my poems still need a ton of work, but I'd love for you to read them and tell me what you think.
>Starr Williams<'s Works:
no books yet! ive only been writing for about a year,
its one of my biggest dreams! maybe someday...
>Starr Williams< Poems
Color Me Red
Red is deep anger that never comes out Red is believing, and then having doubt.
A Scary Dream
Housewives as the nights, Came through, The ceiling swung, And then it grew
Can You Imagine?
A sky that’s not blue, A dog with no tail, A lie that is true, A sea with no whale.
If you’ve ever tried to catch a cloud, to ride a rainbow, to save the sunshine in a jar. Then you know how it feels
Breathing Place (Yellow Moon)
Yellow moon peeps at me Behind the shadows of the night. Rises slow among the leaves, Spreading eerie yellow light.
A Lost Poem
Last night I had this amazing poem, stuck in my head, But much to tired, I thought, “Oh I’ll remember.” and jumped into bed!
Wind is an audible whisper, It’s a secret, and it’s a laugh, Murmured through the timeless trees, From ancient ages past.
I Would Have Lived
I would have lived, I would have sung. May have been your best friend, but instead you have no-one.
For Such A Time As This
For such a time as this, We are to be strong through storm and rain, All those who linger in the Grey, Will only cause more pain.
I am Life, Truth, Wisdom, I love long summer days spent with the best of friends. Faith, Honesty, and God are important to me,
Autunm dashes in, With a flurry of color, It swirls round and round, Each blast stronger then the other.
To Me...You Are
To me you are, A faded yellow memory, A heart that shares my pain. A love that’s everlasting,
Marks, down, breathe breathe, Down, breathe breathe, set, Breathe breathe, set, wait, Set, wait, bang,
One window is all I need, To see the sun or the pouring rain. To view the good or the very bad, All through the same windowpane.
Wind is an audible whisper,
It’s a secret, and it’s a laugh,
Murmured through the timeless trees,
From ancient ages past.
It sometimes calls through blackest night
For the owl to hoot and scream,
It plays a haunting winter flute,
In the meadow near the stream.
Piping little melodies,