Whitney Stewart


Drowning - Poem by Whitney Stewart

I was 12 and this was pretty much my first poem ever.

Although the tears burn my eyes
I dare not let them drip.
I feel like I am falling and can
not get a grip.
I need your help can't you see?
Except that you are busy is
always your decree.
The ringing bell burns my ear,
for to go home is my deepest
fear.
In the morning I don't want to go,
you just say I have to though.
I want to smile but I keep
frowning.
Help me, I'm drowning.


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Read poems about / on: poem, smile, fear, home



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Poem Edited: Saturday, May 8, 2010


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