A Chinese girl in a sweatshop
Constantly working non stop
As news of a ball comes around
And it's happening in town.

She tells her employers
'Let me go, or I'll call a lawyer',
All said and spoken in Chinese
from the girl who loved trees.

She loved nature from all angles
Even the vines that did tangled
She smiled at any hint of fresh air
And believes it's best to be fair.

Her employers responded 'no-
that she was not allowed to go'
And she wished to see the world
And have her straight hair curled.

She sneaked out the back exit
And gave herself some credit
'You can do this, you are strong
And you won't be out long'.

Along the way to the fancy ball,
As she ran across the town hall,
A woman caught a glimpse of her
And somehow the strange did occur.

The woman gave the girl new clothes,
From a clothing shop that had closed,
Dressed her in pretty pink shoes
That seemed like new news

After dressing up she ran for the ball,
And she knew the fun won't be small,
So as she arrives, through the doors
She realised no one who seemed poor.

It was a party, and a party needed alcohol
To soothe the boredom that settled in her soul,
So amidst her drunken charade
A man appeared before her eyes like a mirage.

Her eyes while blinking met his eyes
And suddenly she was no longer shy,
She spoke eloquently of her adventures
And how she met professors with tenure.

They conversed and he found himself
Placing her laugh on a metaphorical shelf
Doing all that he could to make her laugh
But their time was cut in half.

She had to leave and make her way back to work,
So with a gentle wave and a 'goodbye' filled with quirk
She ran for the exit dropping the sweatshop business card
and he still pursued to chase her despite the facade.

He arrived at the address on the business card
While keeping his suit clean was very hard,
He ventured on to find the perfect girl
Who made his heart race and twirl.

He ran around looking for her
But it never did occur
that there were five others who wanted him
so his chances were quite dim.

The first girl clearly had different hair
The second girl was in a wheelchair
The third girl had a different skin tone
And the fourth girl was no meat, all bone.

The fifth girl however, just kept a pretty smile
And although he only saw her for a while
He could tell she was not the one
That left before the night was gone.

When suddenly birds chirping in the distant
Being completely resistant
Against the heavy metal door
And he knew it for sure.

There she was, walking through the metal door
As beautiful as she had looked the night before.
He looked at her, and asked her out
She was shocked and surprised she barely let out a shout.

She found her happiness in him,
And their time spent weren't grim,
For he understood her quite well
And lived life in complete swell.

Oh how you continued to read my word,
And made me feel that my voice was heard,
I thank you all Hello Poetry members,
To those who kindly remembers,
That support was what put man on the moon.

You start it all with just a spark
the mimicry of beating hearts
that casts away sight of star.
You start of as a small light
that caught ignition by ignited
spirits muddled in chemistry.
You raise yourself higher
hoping that flames alight skies
as the skyward gleams off
the clouds.
You brace yourself with
the burning self doubt
and the hatred impaled
towards your own soul.
So burn yourself hotter
try to light yourself brighter
because the hotter you burn
the faster you fade
and in your final wake,
know that someone
will slowly but surely
take your place.

He watched her smile crack,
Like split-roads in a canyon
Letting water flow.

I knew him, not too long ago, I knew him.
The fixture of his hair, the navy striped suit
that sat against his bed that went by never worn,
though his eyes, they lit a fire like a firefly
that only ever seemed to get brighter before
a backdrop of the dark starry night.
I knew him, not too long ago, I knew him.
The smile from cheek to cheek that was present
yet missing behind closed curtains, as though
it took a catalyst of childish laughters to bring
about that stretching of muscles.

I knew him once, not too long ago,
when I was much younger.
I revisit him from time to time
and as time have progressed his
tired face faded yet left in his place
a tiny stone that read:
"here lies a father, a brother"
but my eyes, they scramble the words
and all I could ever see will be

"Here lies my father. Someone I-
wish I had known better".