There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pit where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
A/N i love shel silverstein for multiple reasons!!!
one: he's from my hometown, seattle
two: he's an amazing poet and i love this book so much its not even funny
three: this was my favorite thing in 2nd/3rd/4th grade because when we had breaks during class my teachers would read to us from where the sidewalk ends (yes its the name of the poem and the book) and it was the best thing
four: this freaking poem!!!!!
YOU ARE READING
untitled.
Puisijust some poems. not all are mine. eventually i think ill delete this and organize my poems into something else and have one of just ones that inspired me, but for now theres just this, just me sharing things ive needed to share for a while
