Oh how I love Easter!
The birds are out singing,
The flowers are blooming,
And the grass is green!

The animals that were hibernating,
Finally come out of their sleep.
I can finally see the bunnies again,
And their cute fluffy tails!

I love to go egg hunting,
And eating delicious candy.
The sweets make me feel good inside,
Better than ever before.

Or at least I would be able to enjoy all that,
If it weren't under 30 degrees Fahrenheit and snowing.

Please stop telling me
That I am unable
To do something great.

I have talent,
I have skill,
I want to use it.

But because of you,
It stays hidden away,
Because you keep saying,
That I am useless.

I don't want to be useless.
I want to do great things.
I just want to make people happy.

But because of you.
And the depression you bring.
I am unable to do that.
I am nothing but

Useless.

I look directly into the mirror.
Wondering what could be behind it.
Does it lead to another world?
Or does it lead to darkness?

Mirrors are a magical thing.
We can see our reflections,
But sometimes we can see our souls.

Though we focus on what is in front of us,
But not what is inside of us.
There is a special kind of longing hoping to be recognized,
But it is hidden by looks.

We wish to be more than just our face.
More than the number one thing people judge.
We have a personality, something that makes us special,
And yet it goes unnoticed.

Nobody cares about what's inside.
People only care about what is in front of them,
Not even the things that are around them.
We are more than just faces and looks.

People ask me why I am so rude.
Do you want me to live up to your standards?
I'm not somebody you can control with just a few words.
I have a voice, so I’m going to use it.

I want to be my own person.
Secluded from everyone else and their slanders.
There is nothing that can change my mind and make me another face in the herd.
I have a voice, so I’m going to use it.

I choose to be different from society.
Not by being another bystander,
But by speaking my heart, like how a knight wields a sword.
I have a voice, so I’m going to use it.

Whenever I do it takes them aback,
Like they weren't expecting me to defend myself.
Like they expected me to change immediately to be another face in their horde.
I have a voice, so I’m going to use it.

They never expect me to fight back.
And protect myself from their harsh manners.
You don’t always get what you want as you aren’t a lord.
I have a voice, so I’m going to use it.

I'm not always rude.
I speak my mind, yes,
But it's not always bad.
I have a voice, so I’m going to use it.

There are good people in my life that I care about,
Because they know that when I say kind things about them,
They know I mean the truth and it makes them glad.
I have a voice, so I’m going to use it.



Because unlike those other people who say they are your friends,
And don't even have any feeling or context behind their words,
I actually mean it and will always be there for you, like a true comrade.
I have a voice, so I’m going to use it.


I'm a truthful person that won't hesitate to help you.
Then again the people who are my friends are people who are pure hearted,
And I know they would not let anything happen to me either, like a lily on a lily pad.
I have a voice, so I’m going to use it.

And I'm happy about that.

So next time you ask me why I'm rude,
My answer will be:
"Because I care."
And I hope it will be yours too,
As, you have a voice. So use it.

The light is the first thing I see
When I start up this game I love.

The music compels me to press start,
loading up the save I still have from many years ago.

The art is beautiful like ripples in water
and the sweet gameplay that makes me want for more.

Or, that is what I used to feel.
For the game is gone, forever lost in the reaches of who knows where!

An RPG, long forgotten by man,
But is still loved by many.

It pains me to say that there is no way for me to ever find that special game.
Not even by buying a new one.

Music is a compelling force, yet mysterious.
Nobody knows why it makes us feel what we feel.
Is it the beat? The lyrics? The tone of voice?
The answer is us. Our experiences make us enjoy the feel of music.

But now, I feel we are straying from that answer.
So many people seem to just like music because others like it.
They are being told what like and dislike.

All it takes now it a repeated, unoriginal beat
And lyrics that are catchy, but don't have meaning.
The tone is the same in every song. Repeated without end.

Music used to have feeling to me,
But now when I listen to newer music, I feel empty and hollow.
The void music used to fill still exists when I listen to newer music.

Now I listen to older music, when music itself had a soul.
Now and then, there are some songs with that feeling,
Written by people unknown to the world.

But that music is drowned out.
Never to make the shine it's destined.
But it shines for me, and I encourage that shine.

When I try to show the shine to others,
But they do not see it nor feel it.
They have been blinded to a point past fixing.

This new music is a plague, eating individuality and personality.
Making people hollow shells, unable to make contact with.
Void of emotion and senses, never to have those back.

And I fear it will never change.

They gather in my room,
Making plans to conquer the light.

I watch them carefully,
Making sure not to scare them away.

Their whispers fill the room,
Like crickets in the night.

In the morning, I report what I heard,
But everyone waves me away.

I stay up every night to watch them,
But not to report them.

They entertain me now for they are my friends,
And I love to watch them.

So now, I lock myself away just to watch them dance,
Making sure to never turn on the lights.

And the shadows keep me more company than anyone ever could.

The cherry blossoms' petals are at my feet.
The bloom is pretty this time of year.
It is one of the beauties in the world.

There are so many things beautiful in the world.
You are one of those things and yet,
You cannot see it yourself.

I encourage you that you are beautiful,
But my words are lost when you hear them.
It makes me worried for you.

You are blind to yourself and deaf to my words.
You make yourself up to be prettier than what you think are,
Though you are already prettier without it.

It is a shame you cannot see yourself.
The thought of you doing this to yourself pains me.
The meaning of beauty is lost and support cannot fix it.