The river of a spiritual judgment mind,
Your name derives from Hebrew.
Descends from the Middle East

You're sweet sounding.
Like Frosted Flakes and Froot Loops.

Good humored and good natured.

But behind all that lies a deeper you.

Rapping to wrap the rancid desolation of thoughts… Making them rapturous art.

Sick and tired of frustration,
Sick and tired of the money bent backwards,
Sick and tired of the stressful work,
Sick and tired of being sick and tired, huh?

You've been drunk over music so many times you've lost count of the melodies.

You lost sight to what was important to you…
But managed to find yourself again.

Living 18 years on this earth, you stumble upon a ability.
A ability to open up your mind more.

Fingers twitch,
Body denses,
Eyes close to an oscillate vision.
Tingling.
Every. Beat. Tingles.
Scary but a beautiful experience right?

“I wanna impact the world by saying something.”
So you continue to put the mic up to your lips so the blissful colloquies hit the hearts of the amateur.

Music. Takes. Patience.

With your young body,
Mature mind,
And old soul,
You can push yourself to grab the goal…

And sit back on it in New York.

Maybe I loved a little too hard.

A little too much.

A little too annoying.

A little too passive aggressively.

A little too bad.

A little too good.

A little too sudden.

A little too selflessly.

A little too ******.

A little too much depth.

A little too much passion.

A little too much.

Maybe I loved a little too much.

It's ok if it didn't make it to homecoming, the middle of school year, the stretch of Valentine’s Day.
  It's ok if it has paused, stopped, ended, there will be light. Think good rather than bad.
    Its ok, school will be awkward, moods will swing, love will fade, feelings will drown, it happened all before.
  It's ok if you said things that were too soon, know to not happen, your pride will still go on.
  It's ok if things will never be the same, atmosphere will feel weird, silence will appear, and pain will intrude. It's all the steps of healing.
  Will same feelings come back? Will things be in tip top shape? Can you handle seeing what was yours into someone else's hands? Or will it be too much.
  Stay close or stay apart. Try to hold on and not break but it's good to let it out. Shake it off and let it out.
    All memories will be no use, no meaning, it's all in the past. Once things stop.... There's no continue.
    It's all in the beginning again, like stopping a movie and rewinding it to the beginning. When will it play through?
    Will there be one more chance or no? It's your choice. It's hard to move on, like quick sand has gotten your feet. It's like level 1 all over again.
    You were getting so far like a winning race. Maybe it wasn't just meant to be won. It's up to you to choose.
  We're talking about all school year, the whole. Will it be easy or will it just hurt?
    It's ok to cry a river. But will it be ok to listen to the tracks that played behind the memories?
    You’re supposed to be ok but everyone breaks down once in a while.
    It won't be the same; no one will ever cover the spot that once filled happiness.
    You ask, you regret, you wonder, you beat, you cry, you think, you drift, things will happen but you don't wanna face it.
    Is it ok that you have things that cherish the past? Is it ok that it hurts, you want to die? Do you over exaggerate? Well, I don’t know.
      "It's ok" they say, "you'll move on" they say. This is the 2nd time and will there ever be a third?
      2 months, one year, how many days? That's all it was. It will never come back!
      You blew it, is that ok? You wanna punch the walls, tear your hair out, scream n shout, you wanna stay mad, is that ok? Will that solve the pain you’re having?
      It's ok if they don't care, you care. If they loved you they would have never let you go in the first place. Same as before.
      Is death an option? We hope so. We will be put to peace.
      It's ok to forget, worry about yourself, focus on you, friends, and family, and drop this pain and misery.
      It's ok to gradually move on but not forget the past. It's ok to still live life and sort of be happy.
      You’re in the single basket n it hurts, but you'll be out. Hope.
Is it ok to get up and leave or stay and try?
Is it ok to hurt you like you did me or just drop it?
    It’s ok to miss you, its ok to hate you too.
        God!! U doesn’t know how much I miss you. Seeing u in the halls it's just not the same.
It’s ok to let the memories sit in the back of your mind. It’s ok to see thing awkward now.
        You look at me rude and treat me with meanness, is that ok?
Yet you treat “them” nice, is that ok too?
It’s ok if you date others, just letting you know they’re not the same.
Is it ok to show this to the world, let them know you who you really are?
    It’s ok if you’re confused and not ready to love, you’ll learn it later.
    It’s ok if you’re not mature enough, its ok if you choose dudes over lover.
I hope its ok to date and see him in the eyes of your spouse. I hope its ok to think it’s him just to please you.
Is it safe to date again or it’s not ok to leave yet?
It’s ok to shed a tear and not be embarrassed. If he’s not sobbing it’s not worth it.

Over the buildings and through the trees,
Under the bridges, and overseas.
Trapped in bushes and stuck on streets,
Wind pushes it with sudden beats.
From town to town city to city,
It floats with bliss and sits with pity.
All through the day it flies high,
And all through the night it passes me by.
Left and right there it goes,
Up and down row by rows.
When the day dims down to rest,
The little bag keeps going to continue his quest.

Why?
Why leave me left alone in the dark?
Why ignore me like my life has dispersed from your hands?
Why use me as your own?
Why conversant then devastate me?
You left the world for another
Your lips tasted like nicotine
And tobacco that night,
And I remember the
Way your skin was hot enough
To light a cigarette on
A winter day,
I should have seen the
Birth of my addiction
When your hot breath
Touched my neck, and
All I could think was
“Please, please,
Set me on fire.

Poem #1
You see him very close to you in the rain. There are blurry visions of wet droplets on your eyelashes. Try to get close as much as you can and touch his fragile skin. You’re soaked in rain together with slow, soft music playing through the musky, thick, wet air. You’re trying to find him in the crowd full of humans, but the hustle and the pain makes it worse. Pushing and shoving to get through it all. You get closer to him with every wet footstep. With one big leap in those innocent arms, you guys connect with a wet hug, swinging and giggling in the raining air. Just the two of you guys. Doesn't matter, beyond the background is silent. All you see is just you two in the cold, but yet warm rain. A soft kiss on the lips. This is what you call romantic.  

Poem #2
Don’t know a thing about each other. Don’t even know you guys even exist.  Ya’ll never seen each other’s face, smile, and thoughts. You two are miles n' miles far from each other. You two were dating different people at the time. But then it all changes with one move. You see the new faces, new area, new everything. It takes days, weeks, even a month to finally notice each other. You two never thinking this will happen to you guys, but it does. The friend, buddy, pal feeling you guys are having is petite. Little things change even more. You two are closer, fragile, heated, and obvious. The anticipation waits. The texting, oovooing, Facebook-ing appear.  Then the question comes to place. Things get even more heated, intense. Love goes on and you two are just made for each other. From a faraway distance, a big change can put an effect on life. Two strangers, not knowing each other, being friends and all, become intense, fall in love from separation places. <3

Poem #3
Do you sit on the roof and dream like her? Do you write and watch the sunset slow its way down to the center of the earth like her? You think of courageous things like her? Is there a song that puts you to that place like her? Do you glare off into space and just think of the two of you like her? Do you wish and imagine like her? You pretend everything is ok when it’s not like her? Do you miss her like she misses you? You get up with a fake smile and attitude like her? Do things run in your mind like crazy ants like hers? Do you see a future with her like she does? If so, and surprisingly you do half the same things as her, then why are you standing like a bug on a wall? Are you afraid of the truth and reality like her? You’re afraid on what’s going to happen between you two? Speak! Both of you! Say what’s on your mind. Let it out. It’s best to know than not.

Poem #4
You guys live far from each other. Probably 10 miles far, 100 seconds, 10 minutes, and maybe even ½ hour far apart. Over the trees, through the streets, across the houses, and past the sidewalks. 3 buses to get to him and 3 buses to get home. Only the sweet technology to keep you guys in touch is the key. If only you guys lived close, you can share your deepest feelings. Being far apart is like being on your own, and it’s hard to keep guard n' close secure. You’re a loose goose when not being seen from each other frequently. It’s best to be close to each other than far as a drifty ghost. You’ll see each other at school hopefully, and things will be repeated again.

From my pudgy round face, to my so called “Carrot Top,” I was always never perfect.
To the ginger spice curls in my head to my hazel beady eyes, I was an outcast and known as weird.
I’m a girl with bobby socks and the one who gets picked on cause of my red-hot locks.
When I look in the mirror all I see is a bony girl covered in polka dots
To my cheeks, to my nose, they’re everywhere
“Haven’t you seen her?!” They’ll say
My milky white skin glows like the moon at night. I just hate how my hair glistens in the light.
People say I’m more of a cherry tea than an orange tinted ginger.
I say I’m an alien.
I hate how I seem so translucent and that I burn easily in the sun. I’m almost red as a lobster.
Why can’t I have fun?
People say my freckles are caramel stars, honey clouds, or lady bugs
It’s not my fault I look this way. I didn’t wish upon this.
I burn your throat when I talk; I sting your eyes when you look directly into my hair. I tease your nose when you believe you smell strawberries. It’s just me.
Hey! It’s not my fault I’m a red head.

As I sleep with my eyes closed in tight,
I start to wonder that beaming light.
My eyes creak open like a rusty door,
All I see is darkness surrounding me more.
I leap out of bed like a worried dreamer,
Following the light that sinks in deeper.
As I open the door with a slight pull,
The lights seem brighter and fill in full.
Soft as I go down the stairs,
I tilt my head in a curious stare.
Wondering who I’m seeing down below,
A man who seems jolly and very fellow.
Face so pink hair so white,
He wears all red in such delight.
A bag full of goodies 2 or 3,
I wonder if one of them is for me.
My heart starts to flutter and my mouth starts to say,
“Is this all real or just one of those crazy days”?
I stare and watch him do his best,
As he releases the gifts and pats his chest.
The tree becomes a beauty of wonderful surprise,
As I watch the magic with my own eyes.
No one knows the feel of joy,
Until they see the wonder and enjoy.
I call this Christmas.