Oh, I'd like to throw you in the sky
                      and run you like a kite
Smiling as I'm watching you fly above me
Taking you to endless,
                         breathless,
                         /boundless/ heights

But, oh, my feet would tire soon
And the breeze would drop
                and so would you
And you'd crash down at my feet
And you'd know now that I'm incomplete

                                                     ­       high
But I'd hope you'd remember the
While you're down here dealing with the
                                                                ­          low

I'd hope you had the courage to fly once more
. . . with someone else pulling the string from down below

I'm a beginner's violin,
A rental for newborns,
Carried crooked, strummed silly --
A hasty, cacophonous frustration.
Sometimes, my abuser will discover a melody within,
But I'm left abandoned each and every time.
A bruised composite of groans and tireless hours,
I'm useless to the former novice --
To the master musician seeking a worthy companion --
And I'm tossed to the next clueless dreamer.

I'm nothing but a stepping stone,
The first on the path -- the most walked-on of all.
I'm the start of a new journey, never the finish.
I'm the easiest one to trample.
I'm the training wheels that the little boy hates that he needs,
All too eager to outgrow and to pry from his bike of a life.

I'm the catalyst that pushes caterpillar to butterfly.

Most supportive, least desired,
Once I raise them, they're gone by morning --
Never a thank you, never a nod, never a thought.

Now that I've lost sleep
And the opacity of the world is decreasing rapidly
I'll slip into a state of luma-scale
And with graceless hurdles
Create a senseless hullabaloo
Behind the paper screens of reality
As just a silhouette
In mockery
In between Somber strokes
Inside the lips of joy
This is where poetry lives

The river takes its course
Following bends and curves
Carrying  loads
And silt
Not , all beautiful pebbles
Rolled over the river bed
The river moves on
Always serene and pristine
Not all days in life as proposed
The river moves on and so does life