I don't know a lot of things
But I do know Life is good
Believe me I know

I want to cry
And fall apart
But I must be a brave soldier
And silence my heart

XII. TO HERA (5 lines)

(ll. 1-5) I sing of golden-throned Hera whom Rhea bare.  Queen of
the immortals is she, surpassing all in beauty: she is the sister
and the wife of loud-thundering Zeus, -- the glorious one whom
all the blessed throughout high Olympus reverence and honour even
as Zeus who delights in thunder.

they asked me
what did YOU do today to make the world a better place?
i looked down at my feet
embarassed
"i woke up"
i said
"i got out of bed"
they looked at me, puzzled
"i didn't let depression win"
a small smile crept across my face
no, my dear, the world the world
what did you do to make  the world  a better place
i took a deep breath
"i told the girl in the bathroom mirror she was beautiful"
"i told the boys to stop bullying the girl in the hallways though i wonder if they heard me"
"i told the empty hallways i'd be okay"
i told depression i'd bury it
i woke up
i got up
i stood up
and i hit "play"

If a hiker, at Point "A", begins walking backwards, will he be "meeting", " or "passing", those places he had previously seen?

I** saw you.
         It might be you.
             I talked to you.
                     I laughed.
                              I hugged you.
                                       I knew you more.
                                                I fell in love with you.
                                                         I kissed you.
                                                                  I was jealous.
                                                                          I shouted at you.
                                                                                  I broke up with you.
                                                                                           I left you.
                                                                                                    I cried.
                                                                                                             I died.

Turning
Dark brown
I let go
The sweetest release
Slowly I fall
Twisting my way
Upon the wings of the wind
I soar
Gently
I rest against the ground
Which grows
Colder
Harder
With every second
I lay
Silent
Curled up
Crunchy
Dead
A foot comes
Large and wide and horrifying
It steps
With power and purpose
Directly on top of me
Squishing me
Breaking me into
Tiny fragments
Puzzle pieces
That could possibly connect to form
What I once was
Lucky for me
My stringy veins
Hold me together
I lay sprawled
Flattened
Exhausted
Like a connect a dots completed by a toddler
I don't resemble myself
But I can see my parts
An unlikely display of
Strength
I had long thought disappeared
The wind pushes me around
I tumble
Forward
Back
The air cools
Rain soaks my surface
Snow pummels my body
Soon, I am trapped beneath its flakes
All I see is
White
A blank wall of
Nothing
I can feel my body
Disinigrate
But all of the sudden
A warm sensation comes over me
It is so strange
I see slivers of green from beneath my white blanket
Eventually I see blue
Puffy white clouds
Brilliant flowers
I am soggy
But somehow
Still
One

The whole time
The evergreen stands near