Where the Sidewalk Ends
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 pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the 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.
-By Shel Silverstein

I chose this poem because I remember reading it when I was very little. I would it all the time and still have the book that it was in in my house. I read many Shel Silverstein poems because my mom bought many of his books but this was my favorite one.