Don’t be discouraged, don’t be malnourished
Accept what you have and don’t be bad
There is always hope
Believe in the pope
Always peruse
Because God is there for you.
Don’t be discouraged, don’t be malnourished
Accept what you have and don’t be bad
There is always hope
Believe in the pope
Always peruse
Because God is there for you.
Rays of gold
Beam upon the top of the world
Climbing higher and higher
Each pitch will aspire
Gravity dragging all hope
Life belayed by a single rope
All sense of thought floats away
The golden skies soon turn grey
Fingertips
Never satisfied with the minuscule grips
Falling
Moment of endless pain
Falling
The problem that overuses my brain
Falling
Degrading after each fall
Falling
Finally Rising above the unforgiving wall
Endless sky’s above,
The world awaits below
New dreams begin to grow.
The birds chirp with glee
As the sun rises from below.
Their nest deep inside the tree
Where they watch the flowers grow.
This isn’t any normal day,
For it’s the first day of Spring.
The rain has gone away
And the birds begin to sing.
They hum a little tune
To wake the world up.
And nature begins to bloom
While the dog has her little pup.
Soft colors paint the sky,
The sun in everyone’s view,
And the birds begin to fly
With the wind as it blew.
All the animals crawl out
From the confined space they hid in before.
They all watch the butterflies soar.
For spring has come once more.
Dear Sky,
You are full of endless possibilities.
Filled with billions of things,
The Sun,
the Moon,
the Stars,
You are glorious and I thank you.
You’re home to the sunrise and sunset,
And without you,
Nothing would be the same.
You shine and hold the light,
You, the sky, are like heaven.
Even with striking lightning and roaring thunder,
You remain beautiful and majestic.
Dear Sky,
You are a never ending fascination.
You are a waterfall,
Everlasting, unstoppable, and complete.
As planes go by,
And birds fly,
I will always look up at you, the sky.
Anonymous
Mom,
You are the light to my heart,
which makes you so smart.
You help me with every problem,
just to make me solve them.
You are the rose to my garden,
so shiny and bright.
I love you,
with all of my might.
Friends
Friends are supposed to be close
They’re supposed to care for each other
They’re supposed to
They’re supposed to
They’re supposed to
I’m sorry that I’ve been this way to you
That I haven’t been much help to you
That you give me more than I deserve
That I don’t really care that you’re hurt
That you’ve been working yourself into the dirt
But I don’t deserve it
I call you my friend, but do I really care?
Even a little bit?
Are we really that close?
Am I cruel?
What do I do?
They’re supposed to
They’re supposed to
They’re supposed to
But what am I supposed to do?
Nature, it’s a beautiful thing
it’s as peaceful as yoga it’s as crazy as cirus
at first it could be booming, and blustering and then be calm, and cool
when able to make the birds chirp when able to make the sky blue
is able to make the intense booming thunder is able to make the same bright sky cry as rain
that’s just nature
that’s just what nature wants to do.
Does it make a shadow when it falls?
Or perhaps it makes no shadow at all.
Does it whisper to the trees,
telling the bees that spring is at its knees,
rising as it please.
Where does it come from?
Why does it fall?
When nobody asked for any snow at all.
Ways to capture feelings, opinions, wistful or delightful thoughts into one.
Which can describe beautiful tulips blooming at dawn then day. The core of sweet songs, and meaningful advice.
But now only seems like threats, insults, and pleads. How could words be a simple sound for one.
But an inconsiderate offense in the eyes of another?
Nothing but a joke people say.
Until you’re the one holding everything inside.
Holding in so many feelings and thoughts of all kinds. That you cannot even put into words.
It feels like you’re holding your breath until everything is about to burst. Until you realize you are actually holding your breath.
To stop the noises you are making. That this time is not words but whimpers.
As sobs rip through your lips.
A wave of realization shocks through you.
Insults are to feelings as what a knife is to skin. Maybe you cannot control other people’s words.
But you have full control over your own. Words can be used as an ambush.
Or can be used as a defense. The choice is yours.