Shel Silverstein

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

Shel Silverstein Poems

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

  • somepoemguy (5/9/2018 6:45:00 PM)

    he might be dead but he is good

    16 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • somepoemguy (5/9/2018 6:44:00 PM)

    why are people so mean

  • aiden (5/9/2018 11:51:00 AM)

    you are a very good poet

  • I Like Cheese (5/3/2018 8:09:00 PM)

    You are very good at writing poems i am a young boy but i still like your poems: D

  • That kid (5/2/2018 11:43:00 AM)

    He's dead so idk why your giving complements

  • Boi__ (5/2/2018 11:42:00 AM)

    Why don't you try poetry and lets see your talent *cough* TRASH!

  • ur mom gay (4/30/2018 9:04:00 PM)

    ur mom gay but pretty cool

  • kidkid (4/27/2018 9:18:00 AM)

    nope not today

  • u gay (4/26/2018 9:08:00 AM)


  • e bena (4/26/2018 9:07:00 AM)

    yaaaaaaa ebolalalalalal

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

Crowded Tub

There are too many kids in this tub
There are too many elbows to scrub
I just washed a behind that I'm sure wasn't mine
There are too many kids in this tub.

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