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J May 3
To say what it is really meant for
serves no purpose.
When they reach out from the eye of the sun---
Leave them be.
There is a reason they grow before flowers.
Sometimes life gets you down and you think you are nothing. But you are not nothing, you are great:)
J Mar 2019
When they start to wonder why you’re so short;
Tell them that when the words come out taller,
They’ll only remember when they were smaller.
J Jan 2019
Can you tell me to write
The words that sound good
The words that make sense
The words that make you feel
The words that make me feel---
Worthy enough
To be any good at this?
Maybe
I should put the pen aside,
throw the paper away,
Leave the words floating in the glass bowl
So,
I am the only one to know what it means there.
Another poem I wrote about feeling frustrated with writing!
J Jan 2019
As I write,
I think of all the words that could be,
And how I can mold them to sound more like me.
That's where I come into trouble.
What I sound like,
And what I want to sound like are both different and the same.
I think I sound like I know,
I want to sound like I know,
I really sound like I don't.
This poem was written when I was really frustrated with how my poems ended up after I wrote them. Sometimes, I think they sound awkward and cheesy  or not good at all.
J Jan 2019
Why build your mountain in the forest of trees?
When you know the wind takes away its leaves?

Yet, you want the roots from the ground,
And to travel to heights most profound.

You want the leaves that float if the weather is mild,
You want to change colors when the seasons switch their dials.

You want to be the bearer of the nutritional fruit;
Giving you a purpose more absolute.

You do not belong in the forest of trees
Yet, you still wish to be near the bird’s aerie.

Like a tree, you belong with the sky too.
The birds cross from the other side to land on your pew.

You may grow no fruit,
Or guide leaves on their commute

But, you may stretch a bit higher
And lead people up towards the highest desire

Why build your mountain in the forest of trees?
When you know your purpose never flees?
This is a poem I wrote a while ago, when I felt inadequate compared to other people. ( Still feel like that sometimes). As a young adult, I feel an immense amount of pressure to be successful (college, jobs, etc) and when I see other people my age that are already have it all together, it makes me feel less than. Anyway, I try to look at this poem whenever I start to beat myself up about my current situation because we all have a purpose ok this earth even if we dont know what that is yet!
J Jan 2019
Move with the clouds.
Stand still to the ground---
Release food amoung birth.
Stand still to the ground---
Disappear with dusk,
Cast shadows,
Shield eyes,
Fill life.
Stand still to the ground---
Move to the way of the vivid path.
J Oct 2018
What I cannot be today
I will be tomorrow
And if I cannot be then
The next day will follow.
If that day comes and I am still the same
Tomorrow will wait for me before the sun rises again.
When I see him he’ll ask me a simple question,
“What’s that thing you should be?”
Tomorrow knows everything
But he’ll still ask the same of me.
I won’t answer him---
And he’ll hand me pass
With the word “change” written on the back.
I will wait for change
Like I wait for tomorrow
And if he doesn't show
I'll go back to tomorrow
And when I reach that door
I will be too late.
Tomorrow doesn't wait on those who choose to look for the same forever.
Edit: I may tweak this some more to make it sound better
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