Comfy and sung
Full of warmth
The only place I want to be
After a day of walking 'round and 'round
It's my own little fort

Every poet needs poetic scenery
It can be anywhere, really
Depends on your personality
But I prefer
To write under the sagging branches of a
willow tree
In a field full of
wildflowers

the color red
is the symbol of someone who had bled

People ask me "How do you do that, Mister?"
"It's natural" I say
"No really, how?" They pester me
"It's natural." I say, yet again and again
"Well, that's amazing, Mister" They say, then they go along and play

We are best friends.
we play on the swings
and talk about boys
we play tag
and roll our eyes at toys
we go to the water park on summer saturdays
and to the zoo on autumn sundays
We are best friends
we share secrets
that we know we'll never tell
secrets that we'll take to our grave
We are best friends
we race to the ice cream truck
and play games on our mom's phones
beep-boop-bop
you lose!
We are best friends
we will always be
we will love eachother
and love eachother
even when i'm dead
i will remember you
and you will remember me
We are best friends

Me and my sister talk,
Chatting a few minutes at night.
Me and my sister play,
Sledding in the winter,
And frolicing in the field during summer.

Me and my sister argue,
Over the smallest things.
I call her a sour, bitter, lemon,
She calls me ignorant.

Me and my sister laugh so hard,
We can’t breathe.

I wish we were telepaths sometimes,
So we could read eachothers’ minds.
But sometimes I wish we didn’t,
Cause some thoughts should be kept private.

The empty house
Someone had been there a while before
From the washcloths draped over the sink
From the glass of milk
Halfway done

I imagined a young boy
Drinking a cup of milk in the morning
While having a buttered bread
I imagined he whined for orange juice

The tablecloth was still on the table
A ***, two plates and 4 cups in the sink
And the detergent open

I imagined Mother finishing up the dishes
Doing what a normal wife would do
But out of the sudden they left
Leaving the world to wonder what happened
Leaving the world to ponder

What the fate of this family
What is good or bad
Urgent or casual
What caused the abcense
The vanish
What caused this empty house
Transparent without it's people

What is the purpose of life?
Is it to eat, sleep, and the like?
Is it to follow our dream?
Your Studies
Your Love?

The purpose of life is up to you
The purpose of your life is up to you

I am from light soft bread
A perfect triangle of soft gooey cheese
Mouthwatering brown steak
Crunchy carrots
Sugary purple juice
The spicy smell
I ask for more

I am from long creaking bookshelves
Gazing at mixed up call numbers
Thudding on a chair small enough for a mouse
Picking out hundreds of books
It is time to go home

I am from turning the page  
Intrigued by every word
Tempted to finish
In another world

I am from a yellow glow in the dark  
Thoughts are flowing like light      
Voices are a mere whisper
I wash them away
A sudden silence in my brain
From hoping nobody will hear
The the creak of the paper
Remembering the page number
I am from plunging my sweaty face into cool air
                                        
I am from seeing holes in gray cloth
The same white wall
Like it is staring at me
I am feeling the cold black railing
Giving me small shocks here and then
Their laughter keeps me alive
I am from the itchy brown floor
The old whispering rugs.

I am from writing

Something is so hard
You just want to punch something
Or someone
Or kick something
Even though a moment later
You'll wince as you hold your foot in pain

the colour white
is as light
as something as bright

Moon shining
Mysterious
In the gleaming night

Wolf runs
Grass blows
Owl howls
It’s nighttime

The enchanted forest
It's trees glistening in the moonlight
Butterflies in the morning
Dragonfliesin the afternoon
And fireflies at night
The whole place glimmers with light

She’s the sister I never met
The sister I never saw
The sister that never lived
But the sister who never died

The sister who’s in my heart
The sister who’ll never fade away

She didn’t live for an hour
She lived for eternity

She’s my sister you say
That doesn’t seem right I say

More like a demon of whine
A monster of tantrums
A girl of command

“Get my backpack!”
She screeches
“Get me juice!”
She whines

But nevertheless she is my sister

What you believe in
What God you believe
How you think you think the world started
What you think will happen
When the world will end
Is religon

That feeling
When the liquid rolls down your cheek
Might be tears of joy
Or Tears of hate

Sometimes I just wish
That I can get away from the world
Go somewhere far, far, away
Where nobody can see me

I wish I can sit on the clouds
The fluffy clouds.
And read a book.
I can look down on the world

Sometimes I wish that I could fly
I could go away when times are hard
Build a home in the clouds
See the world
While drinking hot choclate

When I see it
It looks so fine
So fine
That I want it to be mine
More than the great waves
Or the pretty fish
More than the starry sun
Or the milky moon
Oh
I just know
The heavenly thing will be mine
Soon

Shrimp is . .
Sometimes crispy,
But sometimes soft.
It’s from the ocean,
Where the wind is blowing,
And the seagulls are hanging around.

Sometimes you can’t believe,
That it used to be in the sea.
With the dolphins, whales, and fish.

Shrimp comes in varieties!
And people eat it in societies!
If you say you hate it, you’re lying undeniably.
You eat it with anxiety.
(Well, if you’re a vegetarian)

We must be strong
Life is hard
Life is tiring
But we must not give up
Ignore the taunts
Of discourage
Just set one goal and achieve it
The path is not easy
There are bumps in the road
But
If you are faithful
Persitant
And Resistent
Your work will pay off in the end

Beyond the gate
Lies a whole new world
If you want to know
Go beyond the gate
We shall not know
Until we go beyond the gate

One word brings so many
possiblities
The answers are
endless

Some dirt is red and shiny
Deep in the south
Some dirt is black and glistening
High up north
And some dirt is in between
Creeping to different regions

Inspiration
One small thing
But can make a big difference
Inspiration
A muse
A silent muse
Creeping up our brains
Inspiration
A surge that you need to do something

"You're fat and ugly."
"You're dumb and stupid."
"You should just die!"
Each word crueller then the previous.
But the victims face the pain.
And strive for strength.
Deep inside of them.

In the glare of daylight,
Twilight is a far reach.        
In the eyes of Twilight,
Dawn is a mere window away.

I am from my tricycle
From cereal and picture books,
The pictures and words spoke to me as if they were alive.
I am from a mismatched home.

I am from aromas,
Creeping in the kitchen,
From the Banana Leaf Tree,
Whose plate-sized leaves waved ”Hello” at the sky,
In the early autumn wind.

I am from pots and pans,
Their clanking was music to my ears.
I am from a family of readers,
And a family of eaters.

I am from “Bless You”
After I sneeze.

I am from my parents.
From lasagna and chicken.
From Egyptian immigrants,
And my koala shirt from Australia.

I am from writing,
Ideas and words I can’t keep in my head.
Poems I turn them into,
Poems that keep me bright.