Flowers blossoming
Joyful birds flutter and sing
The magic of spring
Flowers blossoming
Joyful birds flutter and sing
The magic of spring
Cats are marvelous creatures,
With their soft fur and cute features.
They run and play with delight,
Bringing joy and happiness day and night.
Their eyes, so bright and filled with mystery,
Hold secrets of ancient feline history.
They curl up in a cozy spot to rest,
Dreaming of adventures, they’re truly blessed.
Their purrs are like a melody,
A gentle hum that brings tranquility.
They rub against your legs, so warm and sweet,
Claiming you as their human, a bond complete.
The goblins are a comin’
They’re traipsing up my walk
Some look mighty ghoulish
Speaking in such a gibberish
They have unearthly grins
Some I’m sure are aliens
There’s animals and ghastly insects
And humans with grotesques defects
Fairies dancing on the lawn
Even a cavorting little fawn
Do you think this is all a dream?
Of course not, it’s just Halloween!
Awaken My Soul
Guide my ever thought and deed
Comfort me in times of need
Set my course upon the sea
Lay my path in step with thee
Awaken My Soul
Do not leave me at the great abyss
Take me to the precipice
Let me glimpse your plan for me
Then shift your winds and set me free
Should I from grace dare fall
Give me a loud awaking call
Oh, to be a child again.
The ebb and flow of the days,
of the months…alas, of the years.
Soon it will be your turn, my precious one,
to take on the burdens and joys.
But for now, your life is soft and cuddly and protected.
Oh my child, my dear child.
If you could only remember these times,
Not only for the happenings,
but also for the feelings,
And deliver them to your own dear little ones.
Then the days and the months and the years will flow anew.
Oh, to be a child again.
Sun’s light spills
though glass panes,
their hardness nary a barrier,
shines on a dark newel post,
yet only for a moment,
then shifts, casts light
on a different part
of the banister,
leaving what once
was illuminated
to sit in shadow.
The Mask
I’m afraid.
All I am is a girl
who has the world in her hands.
Is that real or a phrase to drain the life from me?
I have pains.
No one asks them.
They ask for my prettiness in foul moments.
They ask for my gentleness in a rough world.
They ask for my calmness during a storm.
I weep after seeing the bloody sight of living,
and what humanity must put up with.
The world is melting
and it’s fiery hell is burning my soul,
reducing the level of me in my body and
creating an abyss in my thick bones.
Using people’s influences as my band-aid.
Stepping into the wrong path.
Taking the pill of freedom.
She said it would only inflict ecstasy.
“I thought it would ease my pain.”
The doctors say,
I now need a soul cleansing from the euphoria.
It was deadly fun.
I’m just a girl with mistakes as her past.
Setting foot in reality.
I’m back to the routine of
being under pressure to be a red diamond.
Shiny,
reflecting on what I see and am:
Seeing the bloody wails of my mother and I
being made up of a red heart and insides
stand a chance.
But I thought diamonds were precious and rare.
I see a future with my coat as dark as my life.
Opaque in its brilliance, not radiating light, and
afflicting gloom on others.
My friends, too, black in their shine,
all influenced by the outside.
No longer feeling unique am I?
Coping and pasting.
Still urging to be as red as the sea.
Confused in my thinking:
Am I made of flesh or standards?
Two opposite wholes I must wear.
Working until midnight,
fixing my masks in the mirror to pass life standards.
Seeing much to be erased:
Cleaning up my mistakes,
picking up my self-esteem,
adding on a shiny smile,
pulling out thoughts and
wiping away my fats.
I know perfection is all that defines me.
But life is a straight line
and I can’t be messing it up with my zig-zag ways.
I heard tales as a child of life as love,
not feeling dead because of it.
The injustices all go through. I could change them.
Would life allow me to correct the wrong?
Or would it treat me as an error for pursuing the “impossible?”
I’m a part of a system that plots to kill me.
My purple eye bags show my endurance.
Suppose to
take the screams and frustration of the world,
but it can’t take mine.
Instead, it silences my cries for a breath
while drowning in rejections.
The thought of opening my jaw to speak burns my mind.
Too much work.
I’m not lazy. I’m just putting up with what some say is life.
Urging to be back in my euphoria when it gets hard:
I want to speed 100 on the highway and feel the privilege of being alive.
I want to go to the top of the Empire State Building and see how little life is.
I want to climb Everest and understand how valuable oxygen is.
I want to run a marathon and thank my body for being perfect in its mechanism.
I want to travel the world and see the beauty of my home, which I take for granted.
But how could I risk it again?
I should distract myself by
checking off the strength of my disguise.
I can’t be seen.
If breathing were not natural,
my exhaustion would have chosen to give it up.
Oh to be a yam!
White, pure,
And wholly unsure.
As those who grow
Confuse what they know.
A gift sweeter than any apple on Earth!
Or a root,
born of a different group,
Not quite as sweet
As it may seem
Orange or beige or white?
Confused and lost,
Unsure of the cost
How to be sweet
When thoughts don’t seem to complete?
Oh to be a yam!
White, pure,
And wholly unsure.
If I don’t quite know who I am,
Does that make me simply a yam?
The days grow shorter, the nights so long,
An eerie hush, a mournful song.
The world seems frozen, devoid of life’s bloom,
A desolate landscape, shrouded in gloom.
In the stillness of winter, emotions run deep,
Loneliness overtakes , as hearts silently weep.
Memories of warmth and Summer fade away,
Leaving behind a longing for a bright and sunny day.
Grass in shades of green
Snowy fields sparkling sheen
Vault trees offering shade
Mountains giving way to mossy glade
Skies of blue and starry nights
Days of sun rays dancing bright
Morns of glistening dew
Noon’s of billowing drifting cloud
Earth made sweat by drops of rain
And hark to bird songs