Poor girl never is truly satisfied
By the grotesque figure that stares back at her
Distorted features cut by the broken glass
In the mirror
That little crack in the corner
That creeps it's way down like a spider
Attacking her reflection
In shame, she runs away
Tears flowing easily
As she purges her problems repeatedly
Little naive girl never is truly gladdened
Grabbing at her skin
And pulling it
Stretching it
To look the way she sees herself
She looks up for a moment
And the beautiful child
Who once had life in her cheeks and the world in her hands
Is absent
A stranger stares back her
With a  gaunt looking physique
All color drained from her face
Her skin blotchy
Her hair thinning
Dull eyes deep in their sockets
Highlighted by dark circles
All of this seems to be no problem
Throw on some makeup
Braid your hair
And that's taken care of
But aching neck down is all disappointment to her
After every scanty meal
She sneaks off
To cleanse herself of imperfections
surprised that no one has yet to notice
She desperately runs to the dreaded mirror
Where she sees no difference
And this sad little girl beats herself out of frustration
Bashing her brittle bones
Poor girl, be satisfied

Though you're gone
Your footprints stay
And when I walk on this earth
I feel you are still with me

Though you're gone
Your face lights up the sky
And when I gaze the stars
I feel you are still with me

Though you're gone
Your loved ones remain
And when we all share a laugh from distant memories
I feel you are still with me

Though you're gone
Your knowledge is vast
And when I learn something new
I feel you are still with me

Though you're gone
You forever remain in my heart
And whenever I think of you
You are still with me

The laws of respect aren't in black and white
There's not a book to tell me who to respect
                                                         ­                    And whom I should spite
I do respect those who work for the do
                                          Do what they love
                                          Love what they do
                                          Learn to love
                                          Love to learn
                                          Expect nothing
                                          Fear nothing
                                          Want nothing
                                          Hate nothing

I do not respect those who act mature; you're translucent as glass
                                                Aren't themselves
                                                Crave attention
                                                Need Approval
                                                Loathe the world
                                                Are ignorant
                                                Are blinded by the beauty of life by their arrogance
                                                Wish too much
                                                Complain too often
                           

What does it mean when I say I possess all traits under list two?
Do insecurities drive me to disrespect myself?
Or do I just have high standards?

Admittedly,
I'm not original
                           I don't really speak for myself
                                                  Listen for myself                                            
                                                  Think for myself
                          Or even really love for myself
                                                                               But,
                                                                                       I do infact,
                                                                                                        FEEL for myself
So do me a favor,
And
       Speak for me
       Listen for me
        Think for me
  And love for me
                              And in return, I will feel for you

My sweet, you've no right quoting Shakespeare
I'm nothing to a rose
Do not say where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear
Just keep to yourself so secret and so close

Anon, be patient as a female dove
He does not compare thee to a summers day
Yet I say he is in love
Tragic to say love is but decay

If I'm a rose, remember roses have thorns
I wish not to borrow cupid's wings
For now, I'm hoping God sends me no horns
Tied I shall be not by only two rings

You cannot call it love; for at your age
Just play as all the world's a stage

Sitting in this hot air balloon with you makes me smile so wide
Time flew past us like the seagulls outside
I could just touch the clouds
The people, houses, cars, and problems were so small
We'd left the earth and the troubles that she brings
Out here,
In the crisp pure air,
watching the blue sky
Fade to orange and purple; every hue
Makes me feel alive
And happy I'm with you