Motivation,
reserved.
Deserving a day to rest and of peace,
thats what I heard.
Some secret little fairy
telling me to do something for only I.
Off to my cozy soft bed
is where I lie.
Nothing,
to the world,
and all who mess with my garden,
is how I reply.
Today,
not going to give
physical use of me another try.
As I lay down,
and my blood flows like a river,
my muscles become sweet like cake,
bones like trees.
I am in control,
I can fly.
Do anything that has been told to me
No.
If that is the answer,
then who would ever put on a show?
While tired and used?
I will not be abused.
So today,
it is about the literature and
the sun.
Who would ever believe
that doing nothing
is absolute
fun.

The panic attacks
pass away.
Reaching their time to
resign.
From the one with
the frustration,
all I can think is,
it's not the time.
Not now can I
fulfill what I should have started
at 17.
The glorious age
where nothing bad of the sort
matters.
Every tough achievement
is sacred.
The stars break out,
we become employed,
this was the age,
I wish I had enjoyed.
To have opened my eyes
to bigger and better,
no 17 year old
is a forgotten and removed
feather.
17 again,
why would I ever go back?
To be the big girl?
To be unemployed?
Wasted 16 on the achievements.
Now I'm 19 and the clock ticks.
Bigger hand moving faster
than ever,
just want to be covered in
plaster and bricks.
To be still,
like I stayed,
at 17.
Now I live with
panic attacks,
over the money making process,
that should of been started,
at 17.
What a great age.

So the incident,
intimidates and consoles.
Will never beat the water
that comes from nowhere
and rolls.

For the mind can only focus
on who will come next.
Not the jealous humans
to say and rant,
but the wave to wash over,
we wake up,
and we pant.

Refusing to care about others
rude needs.
See the ocean,
this is what Poseidon
really has to offer
and what he feeds.
Giving the mind a chance
to break
free.

Stress has its place,
but the ocean is where we
say to the disruptive stress,
"You're not for me."

Believe me when I say this,
so hard to be heard.
When shaking
and eyes wandering the room,
don't have to say a word.
Who would ever listen to
and individual
awkward as can be?
This is where depression has its place.
Will you give some chances to me?
No.
Okay.
I get it.
Don't think I don't care.
In your narrow minds your thinking
don't take her seriously.
Newsflash
you're not being fair.
Will you just listen to my point of view?
You may learn something,
so will you count my words as true?
No.
Okay.
Just add your two cents.
Do not think I am not over it.
Yes we are all troubled
in our own creative way.
Making more excuses
to get attention and to not
watch what we say.
Forgetting true words,
searching for hands to hold
and free candy.
I'm remembering my behavior at its worst
searching for alternatives to use
and better people to have in my life.
You're not trustworthy?
No.
Okay.
This is why I let you go.
Every time I try to get you to listen
it's a no.
Sorry, you're just too faux.
I have a stronger mind and a truer mind, you know.
Now get out of my life,
leave,
Go.

Almost feels as if I have nobody.
As a bird not wanting eggs,
or a fish not wanting the worm.
So many accusations
of what I've said or done.
I never did.
So much to scare me away.
I let them go,
then I look around and I am severely punished.
At the sight of the stars finding one another using their glittering light
in the great big sky.
Watching the snowflakes fall onto their perfect banks.
This has been the story of my whole life.
The girl you always see alone.
Is it so much to sacrifice?
There is no right or wrong
to the answer of finding connection.
So to feel I have no connections,
no people, no friendships.
I hate myself
and I just want to throw a rock and shatter
the glass of my bedroom window
where I lay
alone.
The shattered glass on the wood floor
is what my heart looks like
when I'm watching people as
bears in the pack,
smiling like children with lollipops,
and bees in the hive they fit in.
Watching,
but wanting to get there.

Don't be shy,
just go fly over,
to the pink flower that does nothing to you.
For you, provide the pollen and sweet perfume.
Hummingbird, it's just a photograph being taken.
How could I ever hurt you?
Just to stare out the big window
to watch you at the rosebush.
Your pointy scrawny beak,
big, yellow eyes ,
show how aware you are to your potentially dangerous surrounding.
Olive green feathers,
and your small, petite physique.
Display your confidence.
Now I'll just take a photo now
because representation of nature
is what you show and deserve.
You are beautiful, Hummingbird.

How dare you invite yourself
and interrupt every bit of me being happy and glad?
Now that you've come in me
I'm nothing but enraged and mad.
Broken glass everywhere
and empty shelves that held food.
Get out of me, Depression
I want to be in a better mood.
You're selfish
you're unreal
you wreck my relationships
my happiness is what you steal?
Get out of me now
I want to live okay again.
Get out now,
take a walk,
you're like a faux friend.
When will you ever claim your time to end?

It's not my fault,
what I have that I deal with,
It's not my fault,
that I can't do anything right.
It's not my fault,
they give me a hard time.
But it will only be my own fault
when I shrink my temper.
I take the blame after every outburst.
What can I say?
Nobody wants anger
and I make it worse.
For everyone
and then me.

Who thinks they have the right
to stand in front of the room
as the center of attention,
saying only the first thing that comes to mind?
Who would expose only rudeness
to whomever puts in the effort
to be loving and appropriately concered.
The smart Alec refuses to learn.
Only a fool would say
the phrases that are silly and untrue.
A smart Alec may have a brain
but never a clue.
And for the lonely soul
with issues in boundaries
has no idea where the limits lie.
Walks in uninvited,
puts words in the mouth,
and unrightfully gives advice
within a bribe.
Though I can't change a fool or a smart Alec,
and I can't take away somebody's boundary issues
like a magic trick.
So I stand my ground,
and my shoulder is cold with ice.
Don't have to be a friend,
no need for me to be nice.
Just need to treat them fair
and always
Avoid
getting into fights.
And those are my rights.

Today the ocean lost its blue texture.
It appears today gray and
shimmering.
For the sky itself is in control
and the sun can only work so hard to push its way through
the stubborn clouds
and to be seen and needed.
Though rarely wanted.
Desire of a lonely human
to stand still in the moving current
and get covered and possessed by
Poseidon's wave.
Than a cloud to pour out buckets of rain
for display of pure beauty
to be destroyed.
Nature acts up
as a mother who slaps her child.
She, like the sun, cannot push any longer.
Or the young man overpowered with
want, lust, and brutal obsession,
to control the innocent girl he loves.
Ruining a beautiful relationship
like the clouds overbearing the natural beauty.
The child walking by another one
alike at the park
holding in one hand a brown paper bag
scrunched at the top
filled with chocolates and a lollipop.
Notices the alike child crying.
The child crying
looks up
and out of nowhere sees that he is handed
a big, round, colorful lollipop.
That itself replicates the
action of the wave.
Poseidon taught us through the creatures in his sea
to be kind and be brave and strong.
Calls Apollo in the lonely sky
to assist his beautiful fiery sun
that deserves to appear before the world.
For our Gods to create, another wave
for those who must start over again.
For the Gods are to guide us,
and we,
to be human,
and learn from words,
and nature.
From the wave to the sun,
create,
and change,
the anger, hate, and brutality.
For us to learn and let go.
And be happy.

Look at me like I'm a child.
Difficult,
immature,
And gets crazy
and wild.
My blue eyes look back at all of you
and say I just want to be,
treated fairly like everyone else.
So what's your problem with me?
Is it my attitude?
Is it my peculiar personality that keeps ascending?
Never will I appreciate
your talking down at me
and your being condescending.
Now will you give me a chance?
Or would you rather ignore?
I will take a walk on this beach alone,
so when it's all to getting what we want,
you'll get it more.
Not that you havn't already
pushed me out the door.
May I come back?
Will you accept me how I am now?
Will I ever be one you adore?

The aspect,
that shows our beauty, discipline, self-esteem, and that we
get up and move around.
The aspect,
that shows we fight
our desires and go back to our graces.
The aspect,
where our muscle holds our strength and our thin waist shows
our beauty.
It is exposed all around as we put our hands on our
torso and feel our ribs and abs that are perfect to others.
The aspect,
that gets easily ruined as
we let go of our happiness.
It has been taken away.
We become depressed and food is our only angel.
The aspect,
that rounds and widens
as time changes,
routines sail away.
We jump back into the water
and the circles are wider than ever.
The aspect,
that no longer makes us a size two.
We look in the mirror,
we stand, stare at our reflection, and cry.
We say to our body,
*******.
We know the reason why,
but we can't bear the truth to take the blame.
Remember how it is what is on the inside that is cared for,
so we feel no shame.
The aspect,
that shall never define,
our self-esteem, our confidence, our discipline, and beauty.
The aspect,
that makes us insecure,
when we look around the agora,
we feel as if we are the biggest.
It is all in our heads,
our bodies are all different.
We take care of it,
though it is not the sum,
to our greatness,
and wisdom,
and love.

It never matters
how hard I try.
According to my loved ones and strangers,
everything I say
is a Lie.
I want to be different
so to view me as
smart and wise.
Frustrated and burned as I prove it,
giving writing many more tries.
Taken seriously on occasion.
God forbid this becomes my profession.
Trying so hard
as I hold the pen and think.
But I know for fact
the fairy tales and desired thoughts
are creative and full of art.
They belong on paper and
ink.
I may be weak, but I do what I please.
Forget the critics and the
rude who tease.
Speaking from words on paper
that were from my pen and ink.
It is where my imagination belongs.
So read it,
and think.

Is love something temporary?
Why do we argue with our loved ones?

Is it from heaven,
or is it in our hearts?
Where does it come from?
Possibilities mean
it may come from above
when the doves fly.

The blue sky opens
and the clouds break open so pure and white.
Sun beaming on the earth,
to give the playing children their light.

But the trigger,
the volt,
is that where the anger comes from?
Is that why we argue with our loved ones?
Is that why we hold grudges and cups of coffee
at the cafe' we used to go together?

Where would be a better place?
To talk,
to express,
and converse.
What would be a better topic?
You decide what it is,
and I'll decide where we go.

The nonsensical and immature,
the sharp and the emotional,
whatever they see,
love or disapprove.
Know it won't go away.
It is a part of me,
though I shall work on,
but I cannot toss.
Must hold with a firm grasp
in my palm.
Control the unwanted,
dictate the insufferable.
No matter what I do,
it doesn't flee from the inside.
It's a part of me.
I appreciate your concern,
but every condescending
tone and comment
hurts me so deep.
Whatever I do,
that may discomfort your soul,
I love myself no matter
and to those who have acted as giants
and looked down at me like a hobbit.
I may seem young,
but my easy-going vibe
intimidates nobody who needs somebody.
We all need love,
we need comfort and affection.
Despite my
people who treat me as their child.
I am far more grown up,
and you know better than that.
Equality, Integrity, Fair, and
Kind.
Is what you will sense when you approach me
for the first time in your life.
Now forget the quirks,
the cries,
and discomforting chat.
That part of me is now what makes me
this loving, persevered, optimistic woman.
The part that we care most about,
is my Good.
It is the best part of me.
And that is the best part that I will see,
in You.

I cuddle my blanket
while alone in my dark cold room.
It was given to me when I was born,
never knowing it would be needed
Today.
You want me to let go
getting rid of it will never occur.
It is my blanket, my decision.
I bother nobody while I hug
and hold it to my heart.
I'm depressed.
I'm in rage.
I'm angry.
Nobody listens to me ever.
When you do,
please don't debate.
We may not always be having love
but we do not need hate.
So give me my blanket.
I'll keep it with me.
It's up to my heart to work
and let you see.
My great fullness,
Wisdom, and knowledge.

I would of stood still,
and waited around for you
for hours and minutes.
As the clock would tick
through the day,
not knowing what was in it for me.

How I stopped you from bleeding to death.
Though it is embarrassing how she
took the knife away
like a child.
It is what she had to do.
The scars would say it,
and we had no knowledge
of how to handle this agony
and childishness.

As he complained again and again,
as you made him drive around
in all of tarnation
to get you back on your feet.
I waited no longer to say it,
I did.
It was hard,
But I only did
what I had to do.

They can all be mad,
they will all wonder why,
I let you go,
there were no more chances,
times, and tries.

Another chance is given,
but I am no fit.
Today I take my absence.
It is shock,
but relief.

I had to do it for me,
know when enough is enough.
Know when to say
STOP.

Know,
the limits.
Know,
the boundaries.
Know,
when you have to do it.

It's ok.
You got here.
You are not alone.
It has been a tough day,
and you just hugged Mom and Dad good-bye.
They left,
and you stood there
as you watched kids go with
kids having the time of their lives.
Today might not be your day
for that.
Today is hard,
as you unlock your room
with small items and cement walls.
You jump up on your bed,
and look out the window.
The backyard
is filled with loud, obnoxious kids.
Today might not be your day to feel that.

You are not alone.
You may keep your interests,
you can share as you meet.
It is ok to be feeling the way you are.
As your roommate is on the phone ,
and the poster of your celebrity crush is behind you,
surely they have felt the same way
in new countries as they tour.
But you are here to stay,
you know you'll find your routine
and you'll get used to this.

College is not easy.
You'll deal with toughness and hurt.
But you are your own leader
and you'll find your good and fun.

So right now, it's still the first day.
Stop holding back the tears,
and take a deep breath.
What you are about to do
is perfectly fine and there are others doing the same.
Let it out,
and right now,
Just Cry.
It's going to be
ok.

Waking up in your room
for the last time.
Your family prepares you breakfast
in your home kitchen.
Moving in sounds scary.
It is,
but as the days go on you will see
College has it's good and hard times.
The people you meet
Will either mend your life
or break your heart.
This is a place where
we explain our pasts,
we find our love,
and crying is always allowed.
The drama will occur,
And we learn to let go.
We learn capabilities within us
that were never trusted of us in
High school.
Those days are done, and here is the new beginning.
So take a deep breath,
and give many chances.
To the school, the people,
And you.

The key of life
Is not anyone at all.
Not knowing we learn
Through the yellow and black
Flying insect.

Small but smart as can be.
Teach us lonely uncertain humans.
To go forward but keep routine.

Sometimes our hives have to change.
Flowers come back
But we may always choose different.
Since the flowers do become new.

Let them bloom.
Like babies laughter and the moon phases.
Change is hard, but it's only to
make well and accept.

So like a bee.
The key of life, the busy.
Be thy strong self,
but change blooms into stregnth.

Even in new places
we find out honey.
Even in new places
We find our belonged wanted area.
Notify with a sting.
Life is constantly changing.
If only we could all change,
Accept, and find our true honey anywhere we fly.
Be humble
Like a bee.

Our friendship lasted between you and me
a good, long time.
But of course we got on each others nerves.
And our emotions popped like balloons.
I said mine,
you said yours.
Since you were hurtful
my balloon was popped by your needle.
Yet,
I filled your locker with candy
because I wanted to make it up to you.
We used to share all the colorful, sugary treats.
We had a good, sweet time.
And you didn't like it
when I got sugar high.
Then like a child you would yell at me.
And be appalled like a grandparent.
Remember that I let you have the last air-head.
And your head really did explode.
This distance is great.
Watching you come back into my life
like a stomp rocket.
Stomping the presser
to watch the rocket go in the air
and come back down in peace.
But you come back to make me feel dissatisfaction.
As a friend, your job is to
cheer me up, and be honest but nice.
Now that I think of it,
balloons, candy, and stomp rockets are old and
out-dated.
Guess our friendship is too.
Bon voyage,
and sianara.
Hope to never see you again.
So like a stomp rocket,
don't bother coming back.

Walk slowly down the street
on the cold hard concrete,
with houses along the side,
and cars out for a drive.
Fire Hydrants that sit,
and mail boxes that stand.
And so many plants
put in this world by hand.
Nothing beats the beautiful.
The poise stance, the soft pink,
and the puff of the flower.
The Cherry Blossom.
Catching the attention and
arises positive thinking by the
neighborhood crowd.
The tree is rare
but the wandering strangers attention is allowed.
To eye,
the Cherry Blossom.

You're sick of my actions,
I'm sick of your lies.
Sick of the fighting,
sick of everyone being
so uptight.
Sick of the disagreements
though they occur,
sick of the talking,
don't have to say a word.
Sick of the unfair,
sick of the unkind.
Sick of the immature,
sick of the impossible.
Sick of the narrow-minded,
sick of my mind
being indulged by
paranoia.

Perhaps something doesn't go well.
So what?
We are a world, we have each other
to help keep it spinning.

But we're sick of working.
So think twice before calling in sick.
Your'e needed.
Because we're sick of the quitting.

Throw away the negative thoughts,
I now stopped beating myself up.
I find some good make-up
to cover up my black and blue
all over my face.
I choose to think of comedians
forgetting the drama queens.
Be honest but never
******* myself.
Optimistic
is what I will
and what you
can now call me.

This stress goes on,
I can't remember what happiness is supposed to feel like.
Neither the cranium, the heart,
so I can just pretend.
To sound optimistic after
saying hi after a while.
But I can only protect myself.
Can never be used.
So to those who got everything.
The pictures are all around.
I'll get my happiness back someday.
I'll smile without cringing afterwards,
and laugh without going insane.
I may be different.
I am no harm.
I am glad you have your happiness still
since when it comes to moving on
you have it easy.
I do not. I don't forget.
I remind myself
then I hate myself.
But why do I get the hate?
Don't I deserve to be happy again?
Give it back to me right now.
But you can't.
Only I can be the director of my feelings.
And I will cast my happiness
back in my play.
And my life will not be a drama of hurt
but a drama and comedy of
where I deserve to be
and what I work hard for.
Thus not earned,
but taken.
Happiness is deserved by all
and can't be bought.
So think of what is there.
Smile.
I'm going to be happy. :)

I messed up can we please forgive?
There is no reason to look back or relive.
I am one who frustrates people deeply so.
This is when away from people
I choose to go.
But no.

I am relied on to be brave.
Confidence, kindness, and gratitude is what I gave.
It wasn't enough.
When the feelings come in,
then its rough.

Yes, yes, the level of what I have can make me a burden.
No matter who I'm with I can't get a word in.
The fear of Parapraxes,
a meltdown,
or being introduced and alone.
Forget my social life!
I can't do anything right with other people!
I'm going home.

The people I do have in my life deserve to be
aware of what my situation may come to be.
They mean everything so here's my love.
When they don't understand
I rely on God above.
Then send the dove.

I am not fake, I am real, I am a wave.
I crash at the edge of the sea I am brave.
I am a tree.
Straightforward as my leaves fall
to tell you when there will be change.
When they are gone, I'll be naked.
And that will be all.
I am a snowflake, I choose my path.
As I fly, I land, I melt, and that is the aftermath.
Yet I am thunder.
I cry and make noise so all will suffer
when something bad is going on.
But the people below my clouds and rain drops
are stressed out, wet, and their day is ruined.
They wonder why this happened, then I know,
I did something wrong.

You do something alone
for the first time in your life.

So you have no one else.
so you have no one else.

You're paranoid, shaking, wanting ever so much to leave. Fearing something
tragic will happen and it will be the end of the world.

So you're scared.
So you're scared.

You look at everyone else. You feel so insecure like never before. Seems like they all know what they're doing.

So it seems.
So it seems.

So you begin your task, and you start to panic.

You think you can't.
You think you can't.

You cringe when someone comes to you. You then look them in the eye as you are frightened by their power. You admit that you are paranoid and in a scared stage.

You admit.
You admit.

They see where you are and they understand. And you have no need to be nervous.
Anything can be fixed. It's a leaning experience.
You relax and breathe in and out all the stress and negativity you made in your own head and skull.

Now, you have done this task. Next time you say you have done it before, and when you do it again you will say to yourself,

So you can
So you can.

Pop it in to cure and make me better,
but the side effects could **** me.
Sometimes I wish they would
to get me off this ******* depression.
I want to eat so bad
but food can only enlarge
the stomach I worked so *******.
Is it worth eating?
Or becoming satisfied?
I would rather they love me for my heart
as opposed to my beauty.
Beauty means pain,
and I already have plenty of pain
in my heart.
I don't even know if it's worth dealing with.
**** this place.

It's just a moment
not meant to be, but in the end
we are glad it happened.
Just a moment,
to hear a persons point of view.
We will not always agree
but as we move forward
we then later see.
A moment is sacred
we're going to learn
when something affects you
then its your turn.

Go through hell once, try to let go and forget.
The others come in, and there's the upset.
I'll be the bigger person, that job is done.
When it comes to getting praised and credit,
there is none.
Never knowing our right place.
You don't even have to say it to my face.
We are smart enough to find out what is said about me and everyone else there is no doubt.
But as the days go on,
and more is discussed as we say it and talk,
we forget who and what the problem is really about.
I walk this place alone, no problem there.
But you putting this weight on my shoulders creates you into being unfair.
There is no blame.
I feel no shame.
Since I said what I needed and did what I had to do,
and I handled with such maturity, discipline, strength and even,
I did everything and was very sane.
I won the game.
However, even if you are still very ******* and horrified at what I did and if you don't agree, you have no reason to.
But I will be civil on you.
But for now on, let my decisions be up to me.
Where I go shall be seen in my eyes .
Perhaps my independence
will represent what you heard from the other side.
They were lies.
False criticisms, endless battles, force, and belief in no point of view but our own.
I may have frustration, anger, and obsessive talk,
but I have kindness to loan.
I have the right to lift off and release this pushing weight.
It's about the problem
not a persons annoying trait.
We all learned from this falling out,
even though I never received my apology.
I am over this and I didn't lose anything.
I can still breathe.
You learned so much from me.
Now, I understand everything, but I am not sorry.
I have words put in my mouth.
I have depression in my body and my head.
It's time for you to understand
the words that I said.
Now thank you for noticing
how I struggled with this weight on my shoulders.
Very heavy indeed.
I felt this weight that you all put on me went in and through my muscles and it effected me mentally.
It's now your turn to feel it.
And take in and accept your doing in this falling out that occurred.
You cannot let it push you down,
and you cannot let it make you trip.
So now,
you feel the pain I dealt with.
And even though I forgive without any sorrow,
I see now,
that you get it. I am right indeed, and you know
why I did it.

They see me alone all the time.
They wonder, they judge, and they criticize.
They worry, give in, and think they are the ones I am to rely.
But they must know
I am just fine.
Who do I bother? Why do they care?
I feel so
confident, independent, contempt and strong.
I go out into the world alone
I do nothing wrong.
To them, that is a DARE.
I'm alive, I'm here,
I have self-security, I have no fear.
Though a butterfly must travel alone
to find the right place
and to settle and roam.
Then they may not be friends,
but saying hi is always worth a try.
I have not died.
I live in a way that is a concern,
but when they see what I can do, they learn.
How independence is gifted
from the heart.
Avoidance is a move
that can be very smart.
They see I show up,
in shock,
let them be.
I'm alive is what they get
by the presence of me.
Everyday and the future
is not going anywhere.
Because now,
I'm alive.
I must  be productive and wise.
I'll do what I want,
and if I'm alone, I'll do it.
I'll go.
So I dare.

Rub me on the arm,
your touch feels so warm.
I am safe and protected
by a
caring, sweet, genuine man.
You asked to cuddle,
in thirty minutes
you kissed me for the first time on the head.
I felt it, I liked it, it was short,
sweet, I was ok with it.
You love me for who I am.
You know how
to treat a woman,
sensitive and respectful
as can be.
We have gone through some drama together,
since the others had their moments,
and we were a part of it
we stayed together,
because we were meant to be.
You take care of me
when I'm sad.
To you,
I could never get mad.
We have our disagreements,
but we choose to learn from them.
And they become
blessed moments.
We may handle things different,
but opposites attract,
we look back
and laugh
at the times
that something happened
and so we overreact.
Working things out,
always fair,
every day you prove
that you love me
and you care.

Even though we may not
always agree,
your eyes
say you
believe
in me.

We blame,
we rant,
we cry,
we don't let others tell us we can't.
We obsess,
we say,
we vent,
we are so desperate to get our way.
Moving on happens,
but not overnight.
We think it will happen, but we learn,
we cannot put other people's problems out of sight.
We must go to those who are paid to care.
Friends say they can't deal with it.
It is never unfair.
The frontal lobe develops as we mature and grow.
So teenagers, hold your blame,
and don't regret saying no.
People are condescending,
people are pushing limits.
People have their moments,
we cannot break their habits.
The frontal lobe replays memories,
it's like a T.V.
But the world moves forward.
We must let our desires and sayings be.
Our frontal lobe,
directs our choices, and who we listen to.
But we never pick the voices.
The world gives us the freedom of speech.
Even though it annoys,
we have the right to preach.
We all have memories,
we all say things we don't mean.
We need time to blow off steam.
Some frontal lobes help their people read.
The world has so much to say and write.
Some frontal lobes remind us of our unwilling past.
Then we pick a fight.
But the world allows us to conflict and disagree.
We learn that actions speak louder than words.
We don't ever fight physically.
We come together,
we make an agreement,
we shake hands,
we end the tragic moment.
Our frontal lobe may remind us too much,
and play like an old record spinning without control
until someone makes it stop.
We can choose to let go,
but we cannot blame the world.

Walk by alone,
or have people by the side.
The picnic bench is one that is relied.
To be a go-to place no matter
the situation.
Put on a red and white table cloth,
have a picnic,
choose your recreation.
Walk over and put your foot on the bench.
Make a phone-call,
or sing in the rain and get drenched.
Have a date see how it goes,
the people who come by change,
but the picnic bench knows
it has nowhere else to go.
A necessity that people are unaware.
Since the limit is six,
lucky seven,
pull up a chair.
Light a candle in this dark summer night.
We have food, a fire pit that is cooking,
a guitar, marshmallows to roast, friendship,
and this picnic bench makes it all right.

I want to rip them up
make them die.
I will
scream in their face
until they cry.
I will
haze them
till they hang.
I will
ditch everyone who has
taught me
and join a gang.
Substances
will be my next stop.
Sitting in church,
I'll throw in the air,
the green,
the stanched,
the only,
the ***.
Put Mike's Hard Lemonade
in a lemonade stand
and give to neighborhood kids.
Steal a car,
and drive to Vegas
and make some illegal bids.
But when I am let down
and treated unfair
I know that doing things like that
will get me nowhere.
If I want to succeed
I must know
that being the bigger person
Is the path I will choose to go.
And to
everything that could
possibly ****
or lower my self-esteem
and who I am.
My choice,
is No.
I choose to forgive
even if I was never
told an apology.
I may remember horrible things.
But I will not get the lobotomy.
I choose to learn
I choose to move on.
It never matters
who was right
or who was wrong.
Nobody is,
so I choose to end the fight.
People will do things out of line.
I choose to advocate,
and that is just fine.
I choose to agree on split
and shake hands.
To show my opponent
I made the right choice.

I'm a Zebra look at me!
I'm white with black stripes
as you see.
Put your finger
in my
finger-puppet hole.
You can have
a puppet show!
But whatever you do,
don't break me.
I'm old and sensitive
as you see.

What's on, what's there
What can't be touched.
What we think makes others beware.
Beware who we are on the inside.

Acne is the unfortunate
addition that causes the poor
young soul to lack,
confidence,
self-esteem,
and pride.

Stop.
You are beautiful.
You need to forget.
Acne is on everyone
You have nothing to regret.

So they judge,
so they criticize.
Secretly pointing out the
pink,
scattered,
stand-out surface
on what used to be
a bare and beautiful face.

Stop.
Every face is beautiful,
but never bare.
Stay optimistic in your attitude.
Look them in the eye,
wink,
and smile when they stare.

You're still and will always be you.
Only your heart speaks the truth.
Of how you create and what is part of
who you are.
Whether broken out or not,
you never
stop being
a beautiful, young,
star.