Daddy went away one day
Then Mommy cried
I asked Mommy where Daddy was
She said he was gone.
I asked where
She pointed to the sky
She said, up there.

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

It was a hot summer day
The sun blazed in the sky
Oh what I would do for a glass of ice water
Oh what I would do for a cold, cold bath
On this hot summer day

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

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

With her fancy black dress
And black hat and veil
Is she a lovely lady?
Her fancy accent and shiny gloves
Does that make her a lovely lady
Her stressed butler and fat limousine
Is she now a lovely lady?
Her love to others misfortune and grief
Is she a lovely lady?
She isn't a lovely lady?
Kindness, generosity, manners, and politeness
Now that's a lovely lady.

The selfish man in his great waist-suit
Would never give a penny to the hungry
Instead he pushed and shoved
Until he saw his face that he loved
He is the selfish man

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

I don't know what to write
Should I write about the starry sun or the silky night
About the love or hate
Or the praise or shame
That everyone gets

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

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)

That abandoned house on Whitmore Road
Glimmers with trend
As it may have been trendy fifty years ago
It's ragged onion domes and Victorian front porch
Are the only unusual things on that road
Besides the albino toad

Cold is snow
Hot is sun
Cold is dead trees
Hot is wilting flowers
Cold is a fierce wind
Hot is no air
Cold and Hot
Complete opposites
Good or bad whatnot

We love eachother
And nobody can stop us
Cause we are in love

That sly street child stole from a gent!
All raced after him
But he was slippery on his feet
In the hot and cold he went
***** and greasy he was
That sly street child
In the country and city he goes
But never in the suburbs
My oh my
That sly street child!

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

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

Some good is to the left
For some it is on the right
Sometimes bad is on the right and good on left
Or bad on the left and good on right
And sometimes it's just gray

The leaves change color
When they're greatly beautiful
The snow will then come

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.

Brother's at work
Father's gone
Mother went somewhere
I'm home alone
With nobody
The clacking of my keyboard
Is the only sound
When i'm home alone

"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.

They vary
Light or dark
Fierce or shy
Cute or Ugly
Loved or hated
Important or Minor
Weak or Strong
They are all people and we need to know that

I am bad but loved
I curse
Bully
Gossip
I am that average backbiting high schooler
But I am loved
My parents dote on me
I push them away
I curse at them
I yell at them
I scream at them
But they spoil me and love me
Even the people who don't love me
They fear me
I don't deserved to be loved
By I am loved

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.

None can hear the lost ones
Outside the depths of the grave
None can call out to lost ones
To the heart of the ones they crave
Asking for their loved ones back
Who they have lost to the world of horrid black
Taking them away
A heart
Broken in two pieces astray
Such a time later often
They will rest in a brown coffin
With gold lining
Brought back together
A broken heart uniting

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

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

Tick Tock, Tick Tick
Is the sound of the grandfather clock
In the sitting room it stands
Old and rusty are his minute and hour hands
Shipped from Germany in 1903
He's older than my Great Grandmother Millie

In the airplane up in the sky
I stare at the ground from my window
The people look like ants
Rushing everywhere like ants
Buildings look like platforms from my birdseye view
My birdseye view from my window

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

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