Terra M.

Terra is a 13-year-old born of Fredericksburg, Virginia and raised in the urban, luscious southeast Washington, DC. Being a preteen in an urban area without many opportunities, Terra sought poetry and literature as a way to vent her emotions. Being very active in school as the current SGA president, a volleyball player, step team member, dance team member, and a peer mediator, Terra always has something to write about.

Terra has been writing poetry to express herself since the age of six. Featured below are some of her more recent poems. Check them out!

If I dreamed of a night with you, where?
What would we do? what should I say?
If I dreamed of a night with you would the word love appear?

That day

When love was magical
When I felt I had to
When I persevered
That day an angel appeared

When you called
Then I cried
Then you stalled
and our love died
That day an angel appeared

When evil came to life
When demons used knives
That day when God cried
That day when Love lied
That day an angel appeared


When I wished you were still here. When my lips used to speak volumes to the game no one could hide. Not even the darkness could gobble your soul.

You hear the angels singing your name so lusciously. You think you hear the sound of love from down under but your heart has its own plans. Within your touches the heavens have forbidden fruits growing from bitter soil. The bitter herbs are penetrated when they feel the warmth of your presence.

You are more than a dreamer’s dream.The lights of the theatres are all shining on you. You are the most important. Your voice is the reason why unicorns have life.

When I stare in the mirror

When I’m staring in the mirror and I see my face, I see more than me.

I see a life.

I see a tarnished soul. I feel sacrificed. I feel like mold. I feel like a scratch and win that’s been torn more than 10 times along the rims of earth.

Bitter, rough, old, used and abused is what I see of me. There isn’t anything more dreading than life. Life is death in reverse. I feel I’ve been given more than life.

When I’m staring into the mirror, I see more than me. I see someone who’s experienced hell, but smiles like she sleeps in heaven. I eat raw bitter herbs, straight imported from the place where America was bred.

When I’m staring into the mirror, I feel sacrificed. I pretend to be happy and at peace. Like I live in heaven, I’m in my zone. The world is off. I look into the future and see all my fears laughing at me as I scream, “what now? What did I do so wrong?” The beautiful strokes of the violin slowly but surely unwraps and unstitches the material that was used to mend my heart. Over and over again.

When I look into the mirror, I feel like mold. I have been crying my eyes out for 2 days straight. I didn’t go to school today. My mind doesn’t want to meddle with any nerves in my body. So I stay still. I stay in this bathroom tub, with the door locked. The lights off and the shower curtains closed. To demonstrate my mood. They think I’m an attention-seeker. So I do this to get my way. But I don’t: I do this because it’s the only way I feel safe. I’m hurting. My heart is cold and black. It’s still bleeding. It didn’t heal properly.

It didn’t heal at all

because that violin’s strokes ripped my threads and patches out my heart.
When I stare in the mirror, I swear to you, I see more than me.

(Untitled, September)

Cold as ice hot as fire. It burns my insides with more than desire, I feel it. My heart’s beating fast, and it’s not because of me. Pain — it’s my last name, I feel it, it’s hot as fire and cold as Ice, I’ve been burned before. I have that scar on my chest. I’ve been stung before, that scar is on my heart. I’m hurting. The pain, I feel it.

     Do you feel it ?

One Comment Add yours

  1. Melody Maitland says:


    This is an absolutely amazing poem! Please keep writing…you have a lot of talent 🙂 I’m excited to read more. Thanks for posting Sharkey…made my day!


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