The snowflakes fall
Special, unique.
They see people staring,
They think they are freaks.

My ears hurt,
My fingers hurt,
My nose is running,
My toes are numb.
It.
Is.
COLD!

He is a bird
he's made to fly
without a care
he soars in the sky

The stars in the sky
A pretty shade
His love for them
Will never fade

He sings his song
A happy tune
but quiet now
there's danger soon

his big mistake
his guard let down
broken and battered
with blood all around

he's silent now
his melody gone
they take him away
he's just a pawn

A storm is brewing, as you can see,
The smell before a shower,
And a soft and cooling breeze.
A dark and cloudy sky,
Tells of the coming waters.
Maybe go inside,
To escape the dreary weather

The other day
I felt nothing
except
An unknown darkness,
A buried pain?
a sliver of sunshine,
that slipped away.

I’m a poet now,
But the interest will fade.
No one will see
The cool things I made.
The rhythm fits,
But I’m new to this.
I can’t go on,
Most lines seem wrong.

Constant hum on
a city street.
Avoiding accidents is
an amazing feat.

burning fire
endless rage
pain disguised
please stay away

Oh faithful Horsey,
so soft and sweet.
Yet old and faded
and battered and beat.
But every night you fall,
from my bed where you lay.
I have to go get you,
and tell you to stay.

I'm a fool
to think
of anything more.
It'll be gone in a blink.

enjoy it

A quiet ray
fading fast
till everything turns grey
holding on might not
be worth it
tired of the struggle
maybe I'll end the fight

or not

Again.
That old lady,
who wants to change me,
will come again..
A fraud,
she's a fraud!
But it's not her
she doesn't care,
it's my mom
who hates everything
I am..

i dont want to go..

The history class
Is always cool.
But the students
Never play by the rules.
The teacher is great, calm and collected,
Until she finds the bell.

Child-like innocence,
ignorance.
freedom,
From memories, or pain.

What am I doing?
Is this even poetry?
My words are worthless
and my thoughts, nothing..

One, two, three
one, two, three,
the music
goes on.

The music goes on,
but my role here is wrong.

Starting on right,
when I should be left.
"Back," no, forward
Can I go? "Not yet"

"Ladies, ladies, one more time"
Why?
I don't want to dance,
It just isn’t working.

I am recalcitrant,
obsolete and apprehensive.
Animosity overpowered
by apathy.

They don't know me,
and deride those like me.
Yet I'm
too tired to argue,
too hurt to not care.

Hesitant,
to put my pencil
on the paper.
Every word
with a heavy weight.
Every word,
with a different meaning,
a different fate.

Red marks fading,
Silver put away.
Pencil on paper
Marks the days it will stay