i was going to write you a poem.
but im switchin gears.
please! no tears..
haiku.
that is what im all about.
your beautiful, and smart
and these tests! oh man,
your noggin's a fatty
knowledge.
(duh)of coarse.
i dont know how to write
haikus
that is, but just go with the-
....
who said i was going to write flow next?
bandaids.
math, oh math.
Mr. Magee really speaks profoundly,
doesn't he?
EQUATIONS.
all i see is problems.
unsolvable.
haiku, well it reminds me of
hiccups,
i was going to write you a poem.
but im switchin gears.
please! no tears..
haiku.
that is what im all about.
your beautiful, and smart
and these tests! oh man,
your noggin's a fatty
knowledge.
(duh)of coarse.
i dont know how to write
haikus
that is, but just go with the-
....
who said i was going to write flow next?
bandaids.
math, oh math.
Mr. Magee really speaks profoundly,
doesn't he?
EQUATIONS.
all i see is problems.
unsolvable.
haiku, well it reminds me of
hiccups,
A young girl named Emily, stupid and crazy in love
With a boy that she swore was sent from up above
These two have connected for a while it seemed
Emily was committed to keep this boy of her dreams
Would do whatever it took to write notes to send him shit
Wanted to make him happy, cuz his smile, she admired it
Couldn’t go a whole day without thinking bout him
She realized life is worth nothing living without him
And she told him that every night but he never said it back
Emily was always on edge, she wanted more, she couldn't relax
She smothered him with feelings, and he started fading away
He couldn’t take it anymore so he starte
I really appreciate my dear friend
Who I cannot think of his name right now.
I have only met him in person once
But we write more than the post office appreciates us to
Nothing taken in a romantic fashion though,
Except in the art form or appreciation of it
But no love. Just friendship.
We only communicate through
Rhythmic beats, or
Poems.
Written pieces of gold is our blueprint of friendship
It’s what keeps us strong
It’s what keeps us on our toes
It’s what keeps us from falling into the trap of
An every day normal way
And sparks imagination and power
In our guts to crave that desire to share more.
And I can’t e
Today I was in
Line for the boss
At six flags, and
This little girl
Tapped me from
Behind and told
Me I smelled good.
“Like Roses”.
I’m not a person
To shower every
Day. I don’t think
It’s necessary, so
Hearing this made
Me feel good, and
Clean.
All studious with these
Red
Rimmed
Glasses
I appear as disaster
To the
No
Named
Bastard.
Lashing my ink like a
Leather
Locking
Whip.
Across the paper, it hits
The X on the spot.
Scarring the
Pure paper with
Red
Rooted
Love, soon left behind
the bastard will find,
eventually,
the bastard will find
how stupid I was,
but how
wise
was
my mind.
My room is messy.
Is this sloth overcoming me?
I wouldn’t call it lazy.
I could get up right now
And tidy it up to look perfect.
But I believe who you are is how you live,
And I’m far from perfect,
And my life sure isn’t tidy right now.
Maybe I’m not ready for a clean room.
Why not relax, and soak up the chaos.
Is this a gluttony of no responsibility?
No, I would say it’s my desire to see things as messy
And be okay with it.
It’s my rebellion from my mother’s yelling,
Trying to make my room perfection.
It’s only me who comes up to see my room.
Why try so hard to impress, and make an
Illusion tha
Stout, with unstoppable muscle buried beneath his skin
Mr. Wise has got the prize
He wins for losing touch of that selfishness
That greed
Those desires he snapped from their weeds
Big build, bigger heart
As he held me no hearts grew cold,
Mr. Wise has got those hands of gold.
Mother knew from the start.
He’s always sporting Dalai Lama’s sweater
For any weather, riptide or sunshine
Making others’ lives better
Before his own fixed time
Calm, with stormy seas approaching me
Looking at Mr. Wise is all it takes
I no longer got the shakes
Mr. Wise winks in disguise
It’s my father, don’t you see?
Prom
is
A day
That
I am not
Looking
Forward
To.
Think of
Every
Reason
Why you
Would
Want to
Go to a
Prom.
.
.
.
That
Right
There
Is why
I never
Want to
Go.
I’ll save
My 600
Bucks
On an
Item
I will
Wear
More
Than
Once.
Insanity
Is what
I call that.
Breathe In A Moment...
Musky aromas hit
The cement floor,
With the heat rising
To my nose.
Peach and lavender
Lace their way into
The mix. I can taste it
As if I were a droplet
Of water in my drink,
Liquefying into a
Relaxed state.
The vibrations numb
My eardrums..
Movement becomes music.
Rounded tables,
Accompanied by present bodies and bobble-heads..
Motion is all I hear.
Airwaves tantalize my brain angelically.
Leading me to think
My breath is my being
twenty twelve:
A new year is coming
It’s going to sweep me off my feet
Kick me to the curb
Right as I begin to speak
I wont say much because the New Year is here.
I won’t know what to do once it comes around
Round and round it doesn’t stop for no one
It makes its hits and throw-downs
But I’ll never leave my ground
I’ll stay away from the New Year, it’s time for me to freeze
No more age can do, I don’t want life to beat me through
I should be
But I can’t be
Ready for this New Year to take control
I’ll close my eyes, wishing to the wins
That heaven will bless this New Year
And be nice to m