Take the brush from the painter,
You destroy her soul.

Take the music from the dancer,
You destroy her rhythm.

Take the spice from the chef,
You destroy her palate.

But take the dream from the dreamer,
You destroy a nation— the essence of her being!

I remember crying waterfalls in my bed,
struggling to get out,
and then Jesus came.
Jesus saved me.
I accepted Jesus's grace,
and i finally understood.

The afternoon sun opens the day
wiping the morning mist from the sky.
A robin sits on a mossy wall
overlooking the glistening valley,
basking its little chest.
I speak to it,
words gentle, soft and kind.
It looks at me,
a gaze curious, yet knowing,
seeming quiet at its best.
Suddenly, with a song
it takes to the sky,
where old memories lie,
before its ancestors sang,
the caged bird's song.

My niece
made me bangle
of letters, starts, unicorns|
and colored beads

Then it hit me
that's her poem to me
a set of random things
that sit beautifully
side by side
around in a circle

and I noticed that
that's the first time
someone wrote
a poem
about
me

I wish i could explain myself
Fully explain myself...
Stop delivering pain to myself
Be deliberate, and save myself
Instead of filling out the page by myself
Speak in full sentence to you by myself
I'm tired of being lame by myself
Not interested in fame by myself
So the emotions on the page are for myself
I wish i could give them to you myself
Explain why i need all of you to myself
I sorta need saving from myself
And you know what else...
I'm getting used to it being me and myself.

the leaves tried
to tell me

but i confused
their colors

the water tried
to warn me

but i misunderstood
the words

the geese tried
to guide me

but i complained
of not having wings

and soon
i found myself

alone