Innocence is a bird,
A free-flying fowl,
Free from worries and weight,
Free from the nights’ howl.

A bird of love and wellness,
A dove of utter flight,
A sparrow home at last,
An owl in the night.

A single speckled feather,
Dropping, graceful, to the land,
Lighter than the sunlight,
Warmer than the sand.

Innocence is a bird,
A creature of liberty,
Innocence is in us all,
A part free of hostility.

I sit in a school library,
Kids chatting endlessly,
Talking about a new fight,
Down the oval, a gory sight.

Singing joyfully their tunes,
A petrifying librarian looms,
Watching with her eagle eyes,
Smiling, thinking of the noises’ demise.

Playing their games on the screen,
Doing homework is just obscene,
Lunch is all for talk and play,
While work is for another day.

I sit in a school library,
Music blasting endlessly,
A loop of my favourite tracks,
Alone, children turn their backs.

My only company seems,
To be the boundless online streams,
And my hat, by my side,
Making friends, I’ve truly tried.

But writing for me, alone,
Seems to be my sacred home,
And chatting seems to be a waste,
As I sit, write, and hide my face.

I will live forever,
And not just in spirit,
In mind, body, and soul,
Death, I do not fear it.

Immortal, I am,
And will forever be,
For I don't fear The End,
The End fears me.

Red,
Loving, sweet,
Blood,
Dead and beat.

Yellow,
Warm, gentle,
Police tape,
Accidental.

Green,
Nature, growth,
Cannabis,
Under oath.

Blue,
Loyal, calm,
Pills,
Rest in my palm.

White,
Peaceful, pure,
Moribund,
No known cure.

I make my mother cry,
More than I make her smile,
Take a step but go back five,
When I try to walk a mile.

A blanket,
Full of stars,
Hides the world,
And it’s scars.

Doused in the dark,
Free of the light,
Is the arrival,
Of the night.

My greatest fear,
Is at it’s best,
Until my demise,
It will not rest.

You haven’t a clue,
What lies in the dark,
Perturbation and dismay,
Have already left their mark.

A fear so terrible,
A fear so great,
A fear of mine,
A fear to date.

My fear of the dark,
Of a void of emptiness,
A fear too embarrassing,
To want to confess.

Maybe it’s not the dark,
Or rather the unknown,
Or maybe it’s the fear,
Of always feeling alone.