Maybe I don’t have a purpose.
Nothing bad has happened to me.
I’ve worked hard for everything I have now.
Maybe that’s to fix the dreams of the little girl,
Who had everything taken away from her.
Her room, her possessions, her ability to trust.
Nothing but broken promises.
Filling up her bubble of hope too many times.
If I had purpose, would I be able to expect my expectations?
I see nothing but disappointment in every human.
Is this real?
If I had purpose,
Maybe I would be fulfilled.
Maybe if I had purpose,
I would be well loved.
If I have purpose,
Maybe I would enjoy the world.
If I had purpose,
I would have company.
If I had purpose.

A greenish wonder; wrapped in white,
It gave a floral scent of sublime delight.
Plucked from life; it held a belle desire,
There it held the glamorous shire.

The purpose was lost; a withered corpse,
The vase remained; a ceramic coarse.
Depraved of soul; an empty gloom,
There was a vase in my room.

Teetering moons linger on the edge.
The desolate expanse cowers in fear.
Outside, an observer that refuses to intervene.

A wailing silence is born in the void.
It's screams descend into a chasm of chaos.
No more can I bear witness to the damnation.

The stars have sewn their eyes shut.
Condemning fate to an eternal madness.
A sorrowful ache burrows into my womb.

Everything yearns for my tenderly solace.
Their patience bound in endless slumber.
My children are born to chaos, forevermore.

Time, imbued in an infinite memory.
Grows beyond distant eons —
And consumes existence itself.

From young, we play--
Tiny hands, big dreams

Then they hand us books,
And say, study hard.
Why?
So we can work in the future.

Why work? To enjoy.
Then work more
To enjoy a little more.

A loop,
Endless and spinning

So I say good riddance!
I denounce this life and laugh in its face.
It has no meaning.
Not unless you give it one.

The world can give you a hundred reasons.
But none of them are yours
Write your own answer.

i saw a cat crying
weeping into his bright pink paws.
and, as every human should, I went to him
"Oh Mr. Whiskers, why do you cry?"
he looked at me and said
"Why do the sparrows have wings?
for that makes them harder to catch"
"Why do the rats have noses?
by which they could smell me from afar."
"Why do the snakes live in burrows?
deeper than my paws can scratch."
"Why do the fishes swim so fast?
i can't even get a midnight snack"

I laughed "Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha"
like there was a ticklish feather on my belly.
"Oh Mr. Whiskers, why do you think you have claws?
why do you think you have those fangs?
why do you think you have that fur?
It is your life to hunt
and it is their life to run.
It is your life to leap
and it is their life to fall.
So don't be sad Mr. Whiskers
dry up your pretty paws.
The road ahead is full of scurrying things —
Let your claws do what they're made for.

finally has purpose...

The signal drifts, a fragile thread,
Through coded gardens, softly spread.
Each pixel breathes a phantom hue,
A static bloom, eternally new.

No earth to root, no sunlight known,
Yet vibrant petals bravely shown.
A digital grace, a silent sigh,
Where binary dreams softly lie.

It lies within—
In your deepest quiet place.
Stir the rivers of your soul
Till oceans rise
And break their bounds.

No being lacks a gift,
No soul without endowment—
Each formed with purpose.

Let passion's quiet flame
Unfold dimensions unexplored;
From steady drops
An ocean forms,
And skill, when honed,
Will crown the work with beauty.

Close your eyes to blind applause;
Open them to the greatness
Seeded in your frame.

Shine—
Till your very presence
Reveals the Perfect Spirit
Living through you.