What do I do,
If she makes my brain coo,
If her singing calms me,
Breaking through my ADHD,
Her beauty is a sight to see,
Her personality is my heart's key,
I may be only 12,
But into her heart I wish to delve,
And make her feel like a goddess,
About her I can't be modest,
I friendzoned myself...I thought I would fail so I texted can we be friends... she said you don't have to be sorry for liking me.
Do I try again,
With all these cooler kids,
The decision is in mids',
I could say I love her,
There is no girl above her,
Her sweet voice is a lure,
And I am the weird fish,
With her as my wish,
She doesn't judge me,
My heart slows when she will nudge me,
She makes my life have a drive,
And I will compliment her if I am alive,
Her name is cyrille,
I need her for real,
Hug me if you will,
I will only go still,
How I now feel,
Is I need to know,
Will she just be a bro,
I'll be "Ok" if she says no,
But her eyes,
They don't tell me lies,
They are true happy in disguise,
I would tie her shoe ties,
She represents blue skies,
I never liked anyone really,
To be truly honest,
So of her I am fondest,
When she sings,
The stress no longer rings,
Her voice,
I must say isn't just "Noice",
It's the diamond made of crystal,
Pure and nature whistle,
I want to try again,
I might be made fun of by my peers,
Insults in both ears,
She might not just want to be known,
As the girl that made ME not alone,
As she sits on the throne,
...I just sit as that one traffic cone...,
Tell me if I should try,
Or sit alone and cry,
To her I might not fly,
If you don't like my offering,
All ask is...why and what's wrong with me.

So...should I try again?  Please say if I should, and if you know her don't tell her about this...this is personal business.  I don't want to just ask her for a kiss, but if she needs one I can help.  If she needs homework done I can help.  If she needs anything (almost) I can help.

I have legos,
I have toys,
I have videogames,
I have food,
But barely any is what I need or want.
I am spoiled,
I am insulted,
They are kind,
Then they are sour,
They are ok with me
Then they hate me,
My parents,
My aunt and uncle,
They adopted me,
I don't know if the care for me,
They give me stuff,
The reason to shut me up,
I wonder if I just need some attention.
Maybe a childhood.
But no.
It's too late.
My life rate: I can't.
I won't.
I don't,
Because I have my future in mind.
Leave everything behind.
I'll be an author,
Maybe a poet,
I haven't actually tried to write deep poetry,
I just make little rhymes,
Telling my troubles,
But why should anyone care?
My kindness and hate are both not rare.
Life isn't fair.
Saying that doesn't make it better.
I am definitely not grateful for what made my life go like this.  
But at least I didn't experience some types of business.
Life, destiny, fate, god, myself, everybody else.
I am not grateful,
If you made me as dead inside as I am.
All I have left is self-pride.
Even that's corrupted and terrible.
My ungratefulness is unbearable.
Why do people think it's still careable?

It is Valentines soon,
I am alone and feel like a buffoon.
I am not lonely for friends,
I am lonely for ends that bend, trip, criss-cross, and fend.
Romantic books,
make it feel easy,
but in these days,
it's not lemon squeezy.
My friends have talents that make girls barely balance.
I am romantic as war is to peace.
I can't and I won't.
Words to express are caught in my throat.
My heart does not float.
This is truth that I have wrote.

As it begins,
The wolves may howl,
As it burns and soaks,
The cheese grows fowl,
The problems creep,
The changes keep,
And the world’s,
Is a bullet proof vest,
That will calm predator or prey,
That will calm moon or day,
This is about,
A rhythm in colors,
A sun in a moon,
A soothing cocoon,
The item is itself,
Inside your mind,
Repeating itself,
This is a sign.
No matter what,
when down don’t frown,
write a poem,
and count on the sound!

My light star bright,
Taking me through the night,
You are my spotlight and the string in my kite
Moon and Day,
I wish and I pray,
You think of me and I think of you.
For you are the poems,
All are true.
You think of me and I think of you.