Biography of Sian Kyle
Hello, my name is Siân Kyle. I am 13 years old and write stories and poetry as one of my hobbies. I also enjoy acting, dance and singing.
While reading my friend(Curtis Griffiths) 's poems (also hosted on here) , I realised I had a lot of poems and no-where to put them. So I created an account of my own.
I hope you enjoy my poems!
Sian Kyle Poems
He’s sitting at his desk, half-dead, his bloodshot eyes half-closed, He’s thinking he’d be better dead, his features uncomposed. She’s closing the door silently, trying hard not to be heard, It really wouldn’t do if an “accident” occurred.
One Last Time
I’ll sing a little song for you A song to make you smile I’m sorry baby that I’m gone I might be quite a while
If There Was No Tomorrow
If there was no tomorrow, And the world ended today, Would I really speak my mind, Would I know what to say?
I see him scream, but do nothing, I see him cry, but do nothing,
Who Are You?
I am the strange kid who kicks your ass I am the weird kid at the back of the class I am the girl with the scowl on her face I am the freak who won’t keep in her place
Shades Of Grey
Nothing’s black and white anymore, it’s just a hundred thousand shades of grey I live in a world where nothing’s as it seems, it’s kill or be killed Always on the run from some invisible hunter hiding round the corner Nothing’s ever simple, there’s always complications and twists
So even though you’re not here now And you won’t be here again I carve our names into the wall And forget about the pain.
He’s sitting at his desk, half-dead, his bloodshot eyes half-closed,
He’s thinking he’d be better dead, his features uncomposed.
She’s closing the door silently, trying hard not to be heard,
It really wouldn’t do if an “accident” occurred.
He’s lifting up his head, but now- he’s dropping off to sleep,
Too weary now to even see, for if he did he’d weep.
She’s closed the door, approaches him, slips something in his drink,
Exits, sighs, and listens to him breathing out of sync.