You attract too much attention
Your little curls in spirals
Like the fair rides
That spin around and make me dizzy
Bright
And nauseating

You attract too much attention
Fluffed out
Four inches thick
Like the pillows in hotel rooms
Set up beautifully
But too high to rest your head on

You obstruct my view
The wind blows you across my face
Cutting into my vision
Leaving spiral stripes across the landscape

But all in all I love you
Because you are unique
You'll always be there for me
To make me proud of what I have

Life,
Is a train,
Rolling,
on,
and on.
And when it stops,
It is only,
to allow,
New people,
to flow,
In,
And out.

Life,
Is a train,
At the end,
It breaks down.
Slowly,
Not all at once.
A wheel here,
A whistle there.

Life,
Is a train,
Abandoned,
In a ditch.
Mourned,
For a while.
Forgotten,
In the end.

Waking from it's long slumber,
Like a child standing for the first time.
Struggling to stand,
Against the wind,
The rain,
The gravity.
The marsh lies there,
Brown.
Like the metal underneath the paint on playgrounds.

It shakes it's stalks free from the mud,
As the wind bully's it into shaking this way,
And that.
Crashing the stalks into the ground,
Like a lion traps a mouse.
And plays with it.
Allowing it to rise a few feet,
And slamming it down again.

If the stalks are patient,
And blow with the wind,
They will be rewarded,
In the end.
When the wind gives way,
To the gentle calm,
Of summer.