Shel Silverstein

(September 25, 1930 – May 10, 1999 / Chicago/ Illinois)

Shel Silverstein Poems

201. The Little Boy And The Old Man 4/7/2010
202. Batty 4/6/2010
203. Bear In There 4/6/2010
204. Somebody Stole My Rig 4/7/2010
205. Hector The Collector 4/7/2010
206. Enter This Deserted House 1/1/2004
207. If The World Was Crazy 4/7/2010
208. All The Time In The World 4/6/2010
209. Somebody Has To 4/7/2010
210. Sarah Cynthia Slyvia Stout Would Not Take The Garbage Out 4/7/2010
211. Jimmy Jet And His Tv Set 4/7/2010
212. Boa Constrictor 4/6/2010
213. No Difference 4/7/2010
214. 25 Minutes To Go 4/6/2010
215. Ations 4/6/2010
216. Snowball 4/7/2010
217. Crowded Tub 1/1/2004
218. Colors 4/6/2010
219. Smart 4/7/2010
220. A Light In The Attic 4/6/2010
221. A Boy Named Sue 4/6/2010
222. The Giving Tree 4/7/2010
223. Where The Sidewalk Ends 4/7/2010

Comments about Shel Silverstein

  • Kitten (4/13/2018 12:09:00 PM)

    Bruh that guys read stupid!

    5 person liked.
    19 person did not like.
  • Kitten (4/13/2018 12:08:00 PM)

    It's probably dumb like you stupid!

  • Kitten (4/13/2018 12:06:00 PM)

    Nobody cares for your stupid project!

  • giulia g (4/10/2018 3:17:00 PM)

    i like the comments that they do. it is cool

  • rubyM (4/10/2018 3:14:00 PM)

    hi i do your poems i like the one fly backwards it is funny

  • Oliver Neville (4/10/2018 11:07:00 AM)

    I'm studying him for a project.🙂

  • Oliver Neville (4/10/2018 11:06:00 AM)

    I'm studying him for a project.🙂

  • i study shel (4/8/2018 6:02:00 PM)

    he i very good at pooms

  • Jovita Looney (4/6/2018 1:39:00 PM)

    I find his work exceptional and very inspiring, but also funny and silly. He has a wide variety in styles of poetry and that I like.

  • Henry (4/5/2018 3:54:00 PM)

    You know he's dead stupid brain!

Best Poem of Shel Silverstein

Where The Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
and the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
we shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow
and watch where the chalk-white arrows go
to the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and ...

Read the full of Where The Sidewalk Ends

A Couple More Years

I've got a couple more years on you, baby...that's all.
I've had more chances to fly and more places to fall.
And it ain't that I'm wiser...
It's only that I've spent more time with my back to the wall.
And I've picked up a couple more years on you, baby.. that's all.

I've walked a couple more roads than you, baby...that's all.
And I'm tired of runnin' while you're only learning to crawl.
And you're headin somewhere...

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