Midst sweet perfume
           of youthful bloom,
                    the lonely spirit wars
and often cries
          and sometimes dies
                    in quest of her amour.

Yesterday

a momma dreamt
of rocking her little girl
while she read sweet stories
of a fairy tale world

a father dreamt of smiling
while he shook his sons hand
the day that little boy
became an honorable man

a big brother dreamt
of the day that his mother
would finally bring home
his new baby brother

Today
a momma's rocking
her precious little girl
afraid come tomorrow
she'll no longer be in this world

a father is crying
while he holds his own hand
for his perfect little boy
will never grow into a man.

our children are dying,
at least seven a day
their siblings are lying
saying they'll be okay.

tubes like little serpents
cover their beds
they’ve little to no hair
on their sweet little heads

September is here
now our voices will be heard
our words will reach
every inch of this earth.

-ARI

"You don't look like you write poetry.."
Well, why not?
Is it because I am an athlete?
Is it because you misinterpret my personality?
Is it so hard to believe,
I can put my thoughts down
In a way I feel better?
Tell me,
Tell me please.
What does a poet look like?
Do all of them look the same?
Act the same?
Messy hair and beanies.
Scarves and hot tea.
Hipsters.
Suicidal or lovestruck.
Black or white.
The "artsy" types.
Typical stereotypical ideas of poets.
But we are not the same.
We are all different,
Except for one thing,
We all understand each other.
So please never judge me again,
Just because you don't understand
Our world.

You're the prettiest
Of the songs
I ever wrote
You warmed every lyric
Every note
When I look at you my pen
Pours words that never end
Oh the goodness there
Is more than words can quote
You're the prettiest
Of the songs
I ever wrote

Dear lovely , take my coarse hands
Let me lead us to a wonderland .
Across this gorgeous green sea we
shall sail
To that place where love ' s sun
never goes pale
Where our hearts will never , again ,
ail .
The moon has aged thus grand
Here , sit with me on this sea
shore ' s sand
From whence we will watch hand
in hand
While we listen to our loving hearts
pound.
Lets count the night sky' s stars
And tell how lovely and beautiful
they are .
Lets watch the milky way fall to the
earth
And make silent wishes in our
hearts .
Ahh , beautiful lay here by my side
And lets listen to nature ' s lovely
lullaby
As we recount the great time