Declamation Poems
Declamation Poems
Declamation Poems
Am I a juvenile delinquent? I'm a teenager, I'm young, young at heart in mind. In this position, I'm carefree, I enjoy doing nothing but to drink the wine of pleasure. I seldom go to school, nobody cares!. But instead you can see me roaming around. Standing at the nearby canto (street). Or else standing beside a jukebox stand playing the nerve tickling bugaloo.Those are the reasons, why people, you branded me delinquent, a juvenile delinquent.
My parents ignored me, my teachers sneered at me and my friends, they neglected me. One night I asked my mother to teach me how to appreciate the values in life. Would you care what she told me? "Stop bothering me! Can't you see? I had to dress up for my mahjong session, some other time my child". I turned to my father to console me, but, what a wonderful thing he told me. "Child, here's 500 bucks, get it and enjou yourself, go and ask your teachers that question".
And in school, I heard nothing but the echoes of the voices of my teachers torturing me with these words. "Why waste your time in studying, you can't even divide 100 by 5! Go home and plant sweet potatoes".
I may have the looks of Audrey Hepburn, the calmly voice of Nathalie Cole. But that's not what you can see in me. Here's a young girl who needs counsel to enlighten her way and guidance to strenghten her life into contentment.
Honorable judge, friends and teachers...is this the girl whom you commented a juvenile delinquent?.
"AM I TO BE BLAMED?"
They're chasing me, they're chasing, no they must not catch me, I have enough money now, yes enough for my starving mother and brothers.
Please let me go, let me go home before you imprisoned me. Very well, officers?take me to your headquarters. Good morning captain! no captain, you are mistaken, I was once a good girl, just like the rest of you here. Just like any of your daughters. But time was, when I was reared in slums. But we lived honestly, we lived honestly in life. My, father, mother, brothers, sisters and I. But then, poverty enters the portals of our home. My father became jobless, my mother got ill. The small savings that my mother had kept for our expenses were spent. All for our daily needs and her needed medicine.
One night, my father went out, telling us that he would come back in a few minutes with plenty of foods and money, but that was the last time I saw him. He went with another woman. If only I could lay my hands on his neck I would wring it without pain until he breaths no more. If you were in my place, you'll do it, won't you Captain? What? you won't still believe in me?. Come and I'll show you a dilapidated shanty by a railroad.
O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up--for you the flag is flung for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Whatever way my feet may take I go it with a song, Because the love 0' you, my dear, is journeying along; It does not matter if the drouth has burned the country brown And if the dust is on the trees and stifling in the town, Or if the gray of muggy clouds has curtailed heaven's blue, My ways are happy ways because I'm journeying with you; I do not mind the bouldered ways, or mind the panting rise, Because you go the way with me, with loving in your eyes.
I do not know if ways are long or know if ways are drear, Because your love has carpeted my ways and you are near; My heart is brimming full of song, my soul is brimmed with glee, The mockingbird cuts off his lilting song to hark to me; The longest days are all too short, life's darkest hours are sweet, 0' Life's roughest, steepest road is a smooth highway to my feet, The rarest, fairest blooms e'er known in all the world draw near The path I go because they know you're walking with me, dear.
With your love with me I have gone a journey far and long, But always there was gladness on the way, and there was song; Your love was such a warming thing the ways were never cold; And there were little baby hands for yours and mine to hold; And there were crooning mother-songs your glad heart learned to singLife's coldest winter day was like the gladdest day in spring; If life should last a million years, or more, when we were through I'd turn from heaven just to walk its ways again with you.