how could we ever forget*
the pouty boy
his idolization of himself
an irksome ploy

sulking as the giving boys
got a better reception
they were placed in the
more deserving section

the envious streak
within his being's core
so craved for their
extraordinary score

his face was *******
by a jealous cringe
real evidence of a
pouty boy's hinge

he carried the scowling
cross into adulthood
where it festered
*beneath the wood

one shall attempt to write a poem for two
two writers dishing up something in one
one starting with the introductory part
part two following until they conclude

do you get the drift to this type of verse*
verse one then verse two taking a turn
turn of hands working in an interchange
interchange is how it will be achieved

on reading this you'll have some ken
ken which shall show a collaboration's link
link the two pens together as one piece
*piece by piece the stanzas fall into place

It seems so plain to see
Sweeps us along
Leaves us behind
Every one of us,
even
You and me.

Our daily lives
The alarm clock at five a.m.
screaming our name again and again  
"Get up"

The infant
every dream we take,
"I need you mommydaddy too"

Monuments to what we choose
We know they come, and go.

Insurmountable problems
in the end
are
all
Time limited

We've been there
We know

Teenage angst, forever,
Childhood  puberty
Adulthood  old age

Time is god
it calls the shots
tells us
What is and What is not

Galaxies collide
all over the place
Big bangs bust
and must expand
Dark matter everywhere
But
Time it tells them
all their tales

Time is god
god is time
It seems so plain to see.

I wish I were only a half an inch tall
You’d look at me and say, “Is that all?”
I could ride a pine straw falling
Or surf a snow flake over the treetops calling.
I could sneak about without a trace
Even watch you make that silly face.

A piece of gum would be a feast
It would last me a month or two at least.
To a flea I would be a frightening beast
And I could hide away inside your crease.
I could wear your ear ring clip upon my head
But at night you could not take me to bed.

You'd have to be careful where you’d place me dear
At one half inch tall I could drown in a tear.
But I couldn’t give you a great big hug
All I could do is to give a hair a tug.
To move a pencil would take all night
This poem would take me years to write.

If I were only a half an inch tall
You could leave me anywhere at all.
You could hang me from a string
Or leave me on just about anything.
If I could just get myself out of the way
You'd have more space to sit or lay.