I hear whistling from down below
Every second it get's louder
Warning me that it'll get too hot
The dial turns and the flames go out
The water falls out of the spout in a steamy line
Trickling into the desired mug
Patience is a game now
Waiting, and watching the leaves unfurl
And release the flavor so pleasant
A scent either sweet or bitter
And a color so earthly
How could anyone resist a cuppa?

I always thought I was special
At least that's what I was told
The burden of expectations brought me down
I compare myself to others
Probably too much, but I look at what they have
Scholarships for art, music, sports, science
I'm none of those
My pen and paper are tucked away
My painting wasn't a Mona Lisa smiling
Nor was it an exact replica of the London Bridge made out of toothpicks
I sat in the back trying to figure out what note came next
I asked the teacher to tune my own violin
I sat out of most games and was told constantly that I would play in the game
More of a waiting game
I would see how warm and dry I could keep a bench
What talents did I have?
Well society told me I had none
I can make people happy but also annoy them in the same process
Trying to keep up with today and tomorrow
Buying coffee so that they would see past my flaws
I'm still searching for that talent that I can be know for.

Let your mind wonder
Society is not an issue right now
Create your own world
There is a beginning, there's always one
But there doesn't have to be an end
You're the entertainer for yourself.
Imagine, a world. No? Imagine a planet?
You can make what you want
Share it, you won't be called crazy
Aren't we all?
A walking bunch of mad men with stories
Keep them to yourself, share them.
Become inspired.
You are an inspiration.

It's raining. The mist is hovering above tree tops.
Smells of cookies and chocolate fill the air.
Warm colors are everywhere.
Happiness is shared between people.
Though it is a lonesome day.
It's not all bad.
At least I can feel happy, and loved.
I can share it too, and make others happy.
Today is just another day.

Daisy
There was a flower named Daisy,
I think she is a little bit crazy,
Spits pollen everywhere,
Shows her underwear,
And all the time she is lazy.

Camping**
Camping is on a deserted tropical island. Camping is singing on the moon.
Camping is the wildlife around me. Camping is dancing on the sun.
Camping is on top of an icy mountain. Camping is in the middle of nowhere.
Camping is flying through the jungle. Camping is getting lost in an adventure.
Camping is a tent shivering in the cold.

Cats
Cats are black and sly. They creep down the halls without a sound.
Everything it looks at is still. Their eyes glimmer in the dark.
They prance on their prey and in seconds they are gone.
They taste like a big glomp of hair with a hint of catnip.
They fell like a sharp claws climbing in your skin.
They smell like danger. When a cat feels sad it cuddles up with me.

My personal favorite..
There once was a girl who said
"These limericks are hurting my head,"
"Your teacher says you need only to write two,
Then you can go up to bed."

Though your head is turned
I can still see you,
Facing towards the glowing screen,
You say you don't have time,
Even a short coffee break is too much,
You're a stranger to me and I am one to you,
I see the back of your head in a room of paper,
Since when did work replace family?
I'm leaving soon and you won't notice,
I see you but you don't see me,
I don't know who I live with,
Though we are related, I can only see you.

Whispering to me,
The rocks call out my name,
As they shift their location,
With each passing tide.
The white foam outlining
The waves that seem to be
In an endless cycle.
Gravity pushes and pulls
The giant basin of water
Can we really see what's in the sea?
Or is it just a bowl of water
That we cannot drink
But supports so much life
That is vital to our ways of living.
Can we really see?

Is there such a thing?
An edge I mean.
Or does the black hole
That we have sought
Make us travel, wander
Into the dimensions.
Trying to find the one edge
To answer our questions.
Where? When? Why?
We're such curious beings.

Poems are fun
But also neat
They can be read
Or said out loud
To explain things
In an artful form.
Poems are meaningful
And sometimes silly
Poetry is everything.
Can be about anything.
Even a poem

A friend of mine
Who is quite cool
She laughs and sings
And dances too.
We play some games
And laugh a lot
Because we have things
To talk about.
Shwahaylas come quite rarely
But when they do.
Your life is so much better.
When you include her in it too.

The sometimes stay,
But mostly drift,
Like our friendship,
These so many years,
Everyday,
There was a cloud above my head,
Until it suddenly cleared,
And then I saw the sun,
Which remains in a single place.

The rest is silence,
In the poisoned body I have,
Everyone is dead,
I cannot move anymore,
If only I had acted sooner,
I was such a fool.

I'm sorry that I'm too nice
I'm sorry that I'm annoying
I'm sorry I don't have a "good" personality
I'm sorry I can't keep up
I'm sorry that I failed
I'm sorry that I don't have money
I'm sorry I give you headaches
I'm sorry that I don't stand up
I'm sorry I don't listen to the right music
But this is who I am.
Deal with it.
I'm not apologizing for that.

Promise you'll be there for me.
Be my friend by my side,
through rough times,
and happy times.
All the time be there for me.
Now you talk behind my back
Stabbing me.
Over and over again!
It was all a lie.
That promise, made so long ago.

I'm fading, slowly, but I'm still fading.
My eye lids are heavy, I have no energy.
I can feel the soft blankets brush against my skin.
I share thoughts with myself. Now I am at peace and
I will be at peace till the morning awakes me to a familiar routine.