when i was young,
i thought my tears
would nourish roses.
now that i'm older
i know they will
drown sorrows.

Lets plan a trip to mars..
Terraform all its scars..
Make it liveable for us all..
Change the red star blue..

Lets build a vessel that can take us there..
By the hundreds or by the thousands..
A new planet for us to share..

All this amazing effort for an elsewhere far from here..
If we are willing to do such colossal efforts..
Why don't we do it to the planet we already have here..

E A R T H: It can be saved...

Today I will dance on the sun,
For tomorrow I may become the earth.

There was once a poet in Shanghai,
who forgot to dot each of his 'i's
and left the 't's unmarked,
so his 'm's and 'w's barked,
making him poke himself in the eye!

If want was water,
I would be drowning, my head under completely
and my oxygen quickly depleting.
If confusion was cold,
My fingers would be numb and I wouldn't even
have a coat to ward off the freezing.
If youth was you,
It would be slipping away by the second,
And I can't get a hold to stop it.
Now,
my air is gone,
I'm shivering to the bone,
and can't keep a hold on.
But, this is only a poem:
I know I'm not suffocating, subzero, or slipping.
But I can't help but feel like the more I write,
the farther I get from reality
and the closer I get to metaphor mortality.