Written by Nicole Wellings
2007
Stars twinkle at night,
So pure and so bright,
Like angels peeking from above,
Unlike a dove.
When you look outside
Make sure the star has not been eyed;
If it's been wished on
It'll be gone..
Twinkle, twinkle, just at night.
The last one I will see
Tonight
I remember this night perfectly: my little sister was in bed, my dad was watching tv, and I was in the office with my mom, laying on the hard, cold tile. It was late. Probably the latest my mom had ever let me stay up before, a whopping 10:30pm. I remember laying there with my chin resting on my fist, and my brain searching for the rhyming words. Once I finally got all of it together and wrote the final draft in my super fancy leather journal, I was so proud. I had done it. I wrote my first piece of work. And this is where it all started.
YOU ARE READING
The Collection of My Past, Vol. 1
PoetryAt the age of 11, poetry became an obsession. Some of my poems were, well, in need of help; however, others were actually very well put together. I decided to pull all of my poem works together and publish them for others to read, and, to maybe eve...
