Her eyes as blue as the skies on a stormy day.
Her lips as red as a rose.
Though I don't know her name I have already fallen for this mystery girl.

The mediocre march into oblivion
while watching Tik Tok videos
and never reading a 
book or writing a
poem.
They don't know 
the difference between
an orchid or an iris.

The mediocre march into
madness sleeping until
noon, while neglecting
Bukowski and Mozart.
They don't know how
to play an instrument.
No idea what a C
major chord is.
But they know all
the emojis.
The sad sheep masses
don't
know the difference
between a Van Gogh or
Monet painting, and a
digital reproduction on
a coffee cup.
Their phones look 
like grotesque growths
attached to their ears.
Everyone should
contribute to the
cosmic dance,
Carpe Diem
*******!

There were times
that I floated; almost flew.
The wind tasted fresh,
as the clouds hissed by.
My sweat kissed the
hot sidewalk below.
I dunked any
basketball that
I could palm.
Seventeen years old,
and a sanguine grin
the powerful legs,
and a 
skinny frame.
Life was mine, and I
knew it.
I spent more time in
the air than I 
did on the concrete.
The sky and
tree lines were
my home.
I was Icarus and a hawk
soaring above the
common folks.
Now, I never leave
the ground.

there was a little centipede he had a big mishap
he had lost a leg the poor little chap
everywhere he went he always had a bump
he was one leg short he only had a stump

he saw his friend the beetle who knew what to do
i will make a new leg then you will feel brand new
beetle made a leg from a twig upon the ground
now he had a wooden leg and could get around

with his leg now fixed no longer had a stump
he was back to normal and walked without a bump

Coldly bleak blackened walls
Housing a discreet warmth.
Within such listless halls,
We find the stars alight.
Dwelling inside the void
Like an innocent blight,
You stand, full of spirit.
Fragmenting listlessness,
For only void hears it

we clung
to each other
like ivy
climbing a brick wall

our hearts were as strong
as those foundations

our outside changing with the seasons
but inside -

a fire had been lit
that no winter could
extinguish

Did you get enough love, my little dove
Why do you cry?
And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best
Though it never felt right
My
Versailles