Pull out a mirror and look at your soul.
You probably cant see anything through all that filth.

I'd rather write poems than do math
I'd rather exercise my soul than my body
I'd rather learn about Plato than the Industrial Revolution
is it too much to ask for an education system that
actually lets me pursue
my own dreams?

Seven year old Meghan boasted after school
that she already knew who she was to marry --
His name was Jack
and she had cold, hard facts
to back up her theory
on why he would be her perfect husband
"He's not crazy and we both like legos"

Fair enough.

if only we never grew out of our old toys,
never stopped building and re-building what got torn down
brick by brick
maybe then I'd still be hiding in the closet
kissing eddie martin with the lights off

But neither of us like legos anymore
and I guess we're both slightly crazy

Meghan will learn soon enough
that after a while you will step on too many legos
and you will have had enough

So much passion rests in his palms
solo's & chord's an ease
through every last song.
Sometimes I wish to
explain to him the "he"
behind every line of poetry.
Every line, typed out on
script, to give his lusterless
love-life a trip.
Imagine what we could be
if the world had been gracious
enough to unite you & me.
Through timeless days,
space above my head I pray
that soon, we will see that day.

*It breaks  my heart, all I see is we will never be. I bleed. I cry. I don't know why but something that rests so deep in your heavy eyes has just-

made me feel, again.

She's dark, yet
moonlight glows
inside her soft-eyes
& despite her
tragic-aura,
I still want
her blackness,
to taste her magic,
to kiss
the devil inside her.