The following are poems written by my sister when she was between 15 and 17 years old (1962-1964). This one had no title, so I took the liberty of adding one, which she would probably say was too obvious, certainly not as well thought out as the poem. I'm going to be adding some of her poems in between posts. Some of them may be paired with stories, while others may stand alone. As far as I know, they are all original, written in her hand, with corrections and changes made on many of the pages. Hope you enjoy them.
RED BALLOONS
If life were just as I would have it,
The world would be full of red balloons,
Each with red string for a child to hang on
Each, round and rosy like harvest moons.
Soft, rose bubbles for a child to cling to,
Filled with hope and not with air
Each, a dream for a lonely child now,
A dream to banish every care.
Why must I grow up and worry?
Why must I grow old and care?
And live in a world where red balloons
Are filled with uninspiring air?
Susan J. Skinner
copyright 2011/all rights reserved
RED BALLOONS
If life were just as I would have it,
The world would be full of red balloons,
Each with red string for a child to hang on
Each, round and rosy like harvest moons.
Soft, rose bubbles for a child to cling to,
Filled with hope and not with air
Each, a dream for a lonely child now,
A dream to banish every care.
Why must I grow up and worry?
Why must I grow old and care?
And live in a world where red balloons
Are filled with uninspiring air?
Susan J. Skinner
copyright 2011/all rights reserved
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