Some days you feel like you need to write something.
I know I'm not relatable, don't be too worried.
But today is one of those days where writing nothing,
Feels like betrayal hurried.

Some days you wish you could disappear.
I can't decide whether today is one of those days or not.
My crush disappears at 1:55 I fear,
But it's not like I ever enter his thoughts.

But some days aren't like that.
Some days you think there's nothing at all.
When in reality your mind is filled with chitchat.
You feel ready to fall
Right out of your seat
But that's alright.

Lunch sounds kind of boring,
But I suppose it's the people there who count.
My friends are always kind of alluring
They're some of the best people I've found.

You think someday someone will sit next to you
And you'll know it's them,
But you realize few
People find it's them.

I'm one of those people who finds the empty parts of the hallway to walk in.
Luckily, my friends are too, so I'll see them there, in the empty parts of the hallway.

A scared little girl,
She walked into the room.
She saw the lady,
Sitting at the table.

This was a test.
The table covered in instruments.
She sat down in a chair, across the desk
Picking up the silver flute.

She put her mouth to it and tried to blow,
But the breath flew through with the sound
Of wind on lightly battered silver.
The girl set it down, saddened.

The lady nodded and wrote something,
handing her a slip.
The girl looked down and saw,
The name of the silver flute.

Sometimes you feel you shouldn't say anything
Sometimes you feel like you need to say everything.
But being who you are you can't.
If you did you would barely stand.

Some people make you feel small and congested
Others they make you feel your life is a blessing.
But you know that you're already beaten.
You convince yourself you're not a ******.

People tell you you're quiet and you need to speak up,
You get hurt and stay quiet but they don't tell you you're tough.
You stop talking for a while and people don't ask you what's wrong
Because you're usually that quiet, even for this long.

It's tough being a shy kid, growing up that way.
People always assume you don't have much to say.
But then we can surprise them, with poems like this
We can tell them something different, even though we're just kids.

Today is one of those days that makes you feel just nauseous
Today is not a very good day to be so self-conscious
Today is one of those beatdown days
The days that make think you’re in a phase
Of life.

Today is like the day you find your crush kind of hates you.
Today is the day you’re almost starting to hate food.
Today is not the kind of day you just give up and faint
Into the arms of some unwilling, kindly saint.

You think today couldn’t be worse but just imagine how it could.
Actually never mind it’d be stranger if you would.
Today is one of those days you think is about to **** you.
But maybe that’s just because you aren’t seeing the whole view.

Today is one of those days that makes you just a little bit cautious.
Today is one of those days you wish you had something like phosphorus.
Although I'll never say it loud,
I think my story I have found.

Today might be a beatdown, but you have to see tomorrow.
Because sunrises are beautiful to take pictures of.

So I hope I see you tomorrow.

Some things make you love a person even more.
Like their height, their humor, their clothes.
The nerdiness not so deep inside them
Even when they act like they’re seven.

When he’s jumping from wall to wall
Or calling me short in the hall.
When we’re together, talking is simple,
And our conversations are ample.

In marching band he looks devine
And in making my heart race he’s just fine.
He might be really strange
But in his own little way,
He’s amazing.

He’s so overlooked,
As kind as he is
Constantly mocked
For actions that aren’t his.

And it makes me upset
But I suppose I digress
I’m not ready to let him go.

I never liked poetry before
But I find myself reading it more.
Poetry reminds me of me
Being whoever I’ll be.
The laughter, tears and fire
Shoot my need for poetry higher.

I never thought I’d be addicted,
To the rhythm and the rhyme,
Of something more depicted
Than the thrumming time.
Always lost in the music,
Never really thinking about the time.

I’m no watercolor painting,
I don’t fall for my crush fainting.
I can’t write about any of that.
But I can say at last
I have something to say
It’s here I’ll decide to stay.