Hello, little one
Do you remember me?
I'm sure you wouldn't,
To you, I'm not even a memory.

While you run around
reckless and carefree,
I'm sure you never once
Let your mind stray to what would be.

You never thought it would turn out like this.
I know you didn't.
But they're not lying to you when they tell you
you'll change.

Please don't cry, little one.
Don't be afraid of me.
This change can be as blissful
As it is terrifying.

The world is scary.
You'll learn that soon.
But it's so easy for you to forget
How wonderful it can be, too.

Though you think you're Peter Pan,
You can't just fly away to Neverland.
This life is going to push you,
Until you've had enough.

But you'll keep pushing back, little one.
Don't be afraid to grow up.

I love her.

With her dark brunette hair,
always down over her shoulders in cascading waves,
Or ******* behind her head so that I can see her eyes.

Oh, her eyes.
Bright and alluring and sweet.
Alight with a smile that compares only to the one on her lips.

And her lips.
Always tilted up in a bashful smile.
And one side always goes higher than the other,
But I don't tell her because I think it's cute, and I don't want her to stop.

Someday she'll kiss me.
Because I'll never be brave enough to try myself.
And the lips I love so much will touch mine.

I love her

For her hair and her eyes and her lips and her mind,
Which is logical, but with a hint of romance and a vast imagination,
An artistic eye and a sweet, flustered girl just beside that.

She's perfect.

And I love her.

I love her so much.

I bought a bunch of wooden soldiers.
I bought them from the store.
And now a hundred tiny soldiers
guard my bedroom door.

So if you're a scary monster-thing
who wants to go to war,
my bedroom door is open.
I'm not frightened anymore.

Oh boy, time for another poem.
What should I write about?
The meaning of life?
Some deep metaphor?

Eh.
Scratch that.
I'm not deep.
Oh sure, I totally pretend to be,
But I'm not deep.

I like reading other people's deep thoughts
It's fun to think about stuff like that.
But I'm not deep.

I'm silly and bubbly and a little shallow.
Sometimes I'm sad, so I write about that,
Or sometimes I'm anxious, so I write about that,
But it's all skin-deep.
And I don't go deeper.

It almost feels like I've been leading everyone on.
Because a lot of the time,
I sound deep.
But I'm not deep.

I'm just a kid,
Barely starting high school,
Whose biggest concern in life is currently an overdue Chinese project.
Yeah... I'm not deep.

Sorry about that, everybody!
I know I try to sound deep,
But really.
I'm not deep.

:)