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. Peanut-Butter Sandwich 4/7/2010
203. 100,000 Pennies 4/6/2010
204. Hector The Collector 4/7/2010
205. Batty 4/6/2010
206. Somebody Has To 4/7/2010
207. If The World Was Crazy 4/7/2010
208. All The Time In The World 4/6/2010
209. Enter This Deserted House 1/1/2004
210. Sarah Cynthia Slyvia Stout Would Not Take The Garbage Out 4/7/2010
211. Colors 4/6/2010
212. Jimmy Jet And His Tv Set 4/7/2010
213. Boa Constrictor 4/6/2010
214. 25 Minutes To Go 4/6/2010
215. No Difference 4/7/2010
216. Snowball 4/7/2010
217. Ations 4/6/2010
218. Crowded Tub 1/1/2004
219. A Light In The Attic 4/6/2010
220. Smart 4/7/2010
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

  • Meghan White (4/25/2018 5:36:00 PM)

    You are soooooooookk good

    12 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • hmmmm (4/25/2018 12:51:00 PM)

    momndcnmdvmdsmnvnsd

  • jkjojwijr'' (4/23/2018 3:10:00 PM)

    do you know you are so ooooooooooooooooooooooooo good in writing poems or in short form good poet.

  • jkjkj (4/23/2018 3:09:00 PM)

    you are sooooooooooo very good in poems

  • jkjkj (4/23/2018 3:08:00 PM)

    do you know you are gay

  • Lucia (4/21/2018 12:27:00 PM)

    You are a very good poet, and I think you should make more poems.

  • carssss (4/20/2018 8:56:00 PM)

    hi my name is joes buttinioz

  • matthe2 that guy (4/20/2018 8:55:00 PM)

    he is soooooooooooooooo good

  • im so lonely (4/19/2018 8:24:00 AM)

    this sucks hahaahahahahahahahahah

  • ben thompson (4/17/2018 8:07:00 PM)

    fiddle with me dad, ;)

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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