Colors are not the same here.  This I have noticed..  Its as if something is killing them all together as all the colors slowly fade..  The stars are also very sad here in this place.. They burn ever so, with a sorrow of no tomorrow..  The sun now shines very hot rather than it lighting up a beautiful day for me to play in..  The air is just air.. It no longer carries with it the magic and wonder I once had for it..  To know the sun never goes to sleep in the woods somewhere has made me see it as just a sun.. The moon now has it stages.. The fingernail in the sky is called a cresent moon..  The night is just the night.. And the early morning is for sleeping..  This world has not changed at all.. But I have.. You see I have become an adult..  And knowing these small things has taken the magic away...........................................................

She said people were seasons,
and when I first met her, I couldn't agree more.  
After getting to know her, I wished that I didn't.
Her ex-lovers were Winter, and her eyes were a shade of Spring.
I could see the vulnerability of a car crash
swimming in each fountain trapped behind her emeralds.
She was beautiful in the way that could cause suicides,
and fix spider-webbed windshields after each collision of,
“Are you okay,” and, “I’m fine; I promise.”

Every story was Winter, and she was always left alone in the snow.
Mauve lips mouthed words that silently whispered,
"When is this too much? When are you going to leave?"

People are patterns,
and all she knew was the tessellation of temporary love and permanent loss.
Her hands trembled as she looked down.
She was in transit; moving after each hope of home fell apart.
And I wanted to kiss her like the world was falling apart.

You stab me in the back with a knife,
and I apologize for bleeding on it.

Remarkable marks marring mankind
Cuts and scrapes, healed long ago
Reminders of a dangerous past
Proof that nothing wont last
Stories of our decisions
Preserved upon fleshy skin
Tattooed secrets of accidents and slips
New and shiny, fade to lines
Ridges and bumps
Beautiful imperfections, they’re signs
That we are growing
And our past is tagging along

So hold on to the memories
Embrace those discolored marks
Be thankful that you have…
Scars

What if you were never born, and no where around?  Would you still act the way you do, knocking people to the ground?
What if you were never born, would you constantly steal?  Would you even consider that life is really real?
What if you were never born, would you keep beating up everyone?  Or would you learn to treat people kind, and remove that burden weighing a tone?
What if you were never born, would you keep blurting out foul words?  Or, would you speak words of encouragement, so loud that they can be heard?
What if you were never born, would you stay in your gang?  Or, would you go around administering peace, to keep people's minds sane?
What if you were never born, would you still talk back, to the people you love?  Or, would you find it in your heart to apologize, after praying to God above?
What if God decided, not to send you down, to his wonderful Earth?  All because he saw in the future, you would produce a lot of dirt?
But he chose rather, to give you a precious chance.  He knew you would be the one, to teach everyone how to live, and successfully advance.
By, Sandra Juanita Nailing