Biography of Zoe Adams
I love to write poems and books, and have been doing so since I was seven years old, as I was never popular in school and didn't have many friends. I hope to be a writer one day, so please tell me what you think of my poems, and be truthful. If it sucks, I'll change it. Thanks.
Zoe Adams Poems
Upon The Window Sill
I hate the way you looked at me, I hate the way you stared. I hate the way you flipped me off like you never even cared. I hate the way you treated me,
There are strings around my fingers Connected to my heart Once again they pull and twist Telling it to start.
God Help Me
The little green monster, Sat on my shoulder, Watching in angst, As my peers get bolder.
Dead And Gone
No matter how i speak, no matter how i look, My future is set, like the words in a book. Written line by line, a deceiving plot, Since the day i was put into my cot.
My feet are walking round on creaky floors, And the cool autumn mist surrounds them. My mind is closed to open doors, And the life that follow behind them.
His were the arms that lifted me up, And his that dropped me down, His were the ones to hold me tight, With my fingers knitted into his crown.
My feet fall, Heavy on ground, No other stirring, No other sound.
A slow release, A little break, Blood flows down, A crimson snake.
My feet are walking round on creaky floors,
And the cool autumn mist surrounds them.
My mind is closed to open doors,
And the life that follow behind them.
Now in this fragile substance of my soul,
Something seems to stir and awaken,
Its presence making me whole,
I am no longer mistaken.