If I were to get to Carnegie hall
Oh, how I'd have such a ball
I'd sell out the whole venue
But all it seems I'm able to do
Is play sad songs on 6th avenu
Doing anything to get out there
But ask anyone in town, my names not out anywhere
Just waiting around for my dreams to come true
I've got things to prove to me and to you
I'm just a shadow away
Patiently waiting for that day
To play at Carnegie hall

Ahh that quaint little house
Down by the bay
Is perfect
I dream of us there someday
Light blue paint siding is slowly fading
But highlighted by the reds, yellows, and pinks
Of daisies
In the flower box
Outside The bay window
In the kitchen

I wake up on an early Sunday morning
Open the linen curtains
To let cools ocean breeze fill the room
With warm sunlight
And blue jays chirping
I pull on my faded pink robe
And follow the bitter smell of coffee grinds
Into the butter yellow kitchen
Where I meet with you
At a small round table
You in one chair
The other is all mine
We greet each other with a smile
No words
You're reading the paper
And we sip our black coffee in silence
You dress in a suit
And I, in my new white dress
And we skip down the cobblestone road
To the enchanted little church
Down by the bay

Oh how I long
How I long for that day
That day that we meet down by the bay
And for every day in between
Down by the bay that is so serene
Every day with you
Waking up smelling morning dew
Until the day
Down by the bay
When everyday the ocean brings foam
Where we'll both lay
Until the cows come home
To that little house down by the bay

Tea time
And I sit alone
At the table
Hearing cicadas drone
Seeing roses climb the gable
Steam coming from my small mug burns
And without you here, I am now able
To focus on much bigger concerns
Like what color to paint the picket fence
Or where to place this quaint birdhouse
Or what to name the new little field mouse
That scurries outside where the magnolias bloom
right next to the headstone where the leaves are strewn

.               When                                                             ­                     
                  175                      ­                                                              
                  met                                           ­                           At    9:59    a    blood
             ­     with                                                        ­             curdling         scream
                   77                                                                  ­      was      heard     from
to 85 the world held                                                           sea    ­ to     see.    The
their   breath.  People                                                  ­        unimaginable    had
gathered          round                                          ­                happened.          Two
town.          Strangers                                         ­                 words   .   .   .  It   fell.
held     hands.      And                                                  ­       Toppled     over   like
liberty     street    was                                                    ­       my    old   jenga   set.
ironically         named.                                                         Soot   covered    faces
I  was  so   young.  So                                                       ­   Stared       into     our
terrified.   Screaming                                           ­               hearts.  The     bright
and   crying    at    the                                              ­           colors     stained     on
newscasters   on   TV.                                                          our ­        flag         had
I  thought   of  people                                                       ­   different      meanings
who     were     there.                                                          t­han     before.      Red;
That I  knew.  Daddy?                                                 ­       for   what    we    bled.
Where are you? Why                                                        White;­  for smoke that
can't  I call  you?  This                                                 ­       fell like  a  blizzard  in
was  much  too much                                                        late January. Blue; for
For  a  wee 5  year old                                                        the   ­ tears    we   shed.

                                      But on 9/11/11, we started new.

It took me 15 years to find someone
To tell this to
It took me a good few months of flirting
To tell you how I feel
It took me several wide smile and soft kisses
To wisper it in your ear


No, in all actuality
It only took me 2 seconds to say it
And a lifetime to regret it

My notebook
Is my best and only friend
I trust you with all my secrets
My darkest wishes
My brightest memories
We exchange tales
Of love
And heartbreak
I can count on you to be there for me
So I cam vent to you
About all the reality I wish to leave
Thanks, notebook
For keeping my inner thoughts
In your beautiful bindings