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MRosen Oct 2020
You are the edge of the universe,
The boundaries of my existence,
A place where students love to converse,
But only from a distance.

I had to write a poem,
But I didn’t know what about.
My mind was at a tipping point,
So I settled upon a pout.

I lay on the soft green blobs,
As I pondered the task at hand.
My head began to throb,
for it felt like a bag of sand.

And in my hour of darkness,
I did not wince nor cry aloud.
For then I heard a harkness,
That pushed me off the ground.

My teacher said a sound,
That made my heart abound
“The stairs that lead to nowhere”

Now that is quite a title,
I chose to use it for my poem-
The words are the most vital.

You are the edge of the universe,
The boundaries of my existence,
A place where students love to converse,
But only from a distance.
MRosen Oct 2020
There was once a boy who had a shield:

three fourths of his heart.

He ran around knight to night,

just trying to fight.

Not much later his heart was a traitor,

and he gave his shield to his savior.

She then used it, never abused it,

and passed it on to someone who used it.

Now I have the shield, use it to not feel,

whatever people throw back at me.
MRosen Oct 2020
I ask them to chill out…

Or at least to stop screaming.

I say “it’s eleven and you will wake the neighbors”.

I want them to snuggle up with me on the couch.

I want to watch disney movies as a family

Or play a round of werewolf altogether

But all they will ever want to do is run around the house,

Screaming like chickens with their heads cut off
MRosen Oct 2020
You are the noisy cuckoo bird,
The mother duck who guides her ducklings across the street.
You are the vast oceans and the waters,
And the fearless sky at early light.
You are the rubix cube on the kitchen counter,
And the chandelier swinging from the cracked old ceiling.

However you are not the silent chatter of the trees,
The elephant’s ear
Or the potters clay
And you are certainly not the overused sandpaper.
There is just no way that you are the overused sandpaper.

It is possible that you are the blind woman’s painting,
Maybe even the newborn puppy struggling to walk,
But you are not even close to being the dam holding back the water.

And a quick chat with anyone who knows you will prove
That you are neither the field of daisies,
Or the deep, restful marsh.

It might interest you to know that I am the taste of lemonade on a hot summer day.
I also happen to be the snowflake that doesn’t melt,
The little green sapling,
And the hammer and nail.

I am also the kangaroo with my little joey,
And the letter in the bottle.
But don’t worry, I’m not the noisy cuckoo bird.
You are still the noisy cuckoo bird.
You will always be the noisy cuckoo bird.
Not to mention the mother duck and--somehow-- her ducklings.
MRosen Oct 2020
We The Three
We who met
At tryouts on a cold day

We who have yet
To share triumphs in our own way

We who know fear
Will always succumb

We who share cheer
Amongst everyone

We who persist
And never do half

We who exist
With a smile and laugh.

We will never drift far apart
MRosen Oct 2020
I lie here-restless
Reflecting and Collecting,
Late into the night

The constant chatter,
Patter patter, is beating
At my ears, calming

Climbing is calling,
I’m scared of falling. But push
On I must. Don’t fall…
The big lake shimmers-
My dog jumps to catch the stick,                                                                                                                                                          
Water sound permeates

My friends are laughing.
Mouths wide open, spitting food                                                                                                                          All over...  at lunch
These are Haikus I had to write for school. Not my strong suit
MRosen Oct 2020
You were my source of tears in life,
But also smiles and dreams.
Oh how I love all six inches of you,
The way you crack and bend my toes,
Feels awful, but upbringing.
I’ve since sought shoes as painful as you,
But never will they come.
For you were the dark in the light of the day,
Always bringing me down and making me suffer.
You taught me what adversity feels like and how to crawl through it,
For when I put my toes in you, all I could do was crawl.
I never could stand in you,
For my legs would crumble beneath me.
But somehow I learned
To climb,
To push back my tears and fear.
I could not bear it when I lost you,
despite what you put me through.

For you were the broccoli to my mac and cheese,
The pickle to my ice cream.
You made me strong through through pain and anticipation.
Sometimes in life things grow apart,
Like the soft rubber you are made up of.
Too close we were pushed together,
So we had no choice but to part.
I had to replace you with something new,
A full size bigger and cleaner.
But these new shoes will never be like you were,
Despite how much comfort they bring me.
They are close to my feet in the perfect way,
But still, you were nearer.
I wish I could explain how much I thought about you,
Or at least the pain that coursed through me.

Now while I mourn the loss of you,
I smile in spite of myself.
I can finally, finally-
Stand up tall,
And hold my body on the wall
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