Alone in a snowy field,
Branches plead,
Moans lost in the wind
while flurries dance,
Heavy with fruit long since spoiled,
Mutinous apples cling,
Their coppery smirks
defy Persephone's call to plunge,
They hold tight,
Swelled with spongy pride,
Winter's swirling display fuels rebellion,
Their snowy caps worn with aplomb,
Parisian pommes de neige
usurp nature's order,
Flexing branches like Diana's bow,
A heart-shaped shadow in the wood,
Threatening to break,
While robins bide their time.

But who else will have peace in their palm
When they lay it across
My ribs
At night.

Who else
As they slumber beneath
A blanket of freckles and
Dreaming eyelids,
Will whisper into the dark air
With a gentle cadence of breaths
The particular softness that cradles my heart
And lets me

Close my aching eyes

And rest.

Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Was this the right choice?
Seeing warnings on twitter
Thinking they're all quitters
Thinking you're better
But in reality, you're just as equal as them.

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Seeing your friends play, you start multiplying
Not even touching a pipe and dying
You're on the floor, you're crying
Pressing start over and over again and trying
Knowing your high score is low and start lying
because you know you ****.

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Questions going through your mind
"Why did I die?"
"Did I really touch a pipe?"
"Why do iPhone users only have day while Android have both day and night?"
"Why is it slower on other phones?"
"How do you get past 20?"
"Why do I keep dying?"
"Why do Android users have other colors?"
But the question you should be asking is...
"Am I going mad?"

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Now, the resolution.
Stop the addiction.
Press that "x"
You know its for the greater good.
I know YOU feel the ANGER whenever you die.
You don't wanna risk throwing your phone for that.
Take my advice. DO IT.
Before it ruins your life.

But as the day passes...
You can't.
You can't.
You can't.

Its too late.
Flappy Bird is now part of life.
Even though the anger
The anger that feels like your chest being stabbed by a knife
Hurts you so much
Deep inside you get a little happy...
Knowing somewhere in the world someone trying the same game
Got less than you.
Less than 3, 2, or 1.
And because of this you want to beat more people who **** more than you.

And this should be an achievement
You, state your name, got YOUR own high score.
YOU did it
YOU made it to one pipe or even more.
And if you didn't
Well ***** for you

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Hush, lullay.

Your treasures all

Encrust with rust,

Your trinket pleasures fall

        To dust.



Beneath the sapphire arch,

Upon the grassy floor,

Is nothing more

        To hold,

And play is over-old.

Your eyes

        In sleepy fever gleam,

Their lids droop

        To their dream.

You wander late alone,

The flesh frets on the bone,

Your love fails in your breast,

Here is the pillow.

Rest.

when i see the youthful faces
i feel a bitter regret
curse how time crazily races
rue things for which i'm late.

my youth now seems wasn't there
or was just a fleeting span
fate dealt me a blow unfair
made me too fast old man.

if only the years did roll back
if time travel wasn't a fancy
if only was laid back the past track
i would've loved to be twenty.

why it's such i didn't care
let twenty fly too fast past me
why that year if was very much there
i didn't lock it to be forever twenty.

twenty at twenty seemed absurd an age
a fabulous but unreal mirage
it was the year i passed out college
twenty did i ever have that age.

twenty when came too fast it went
survives in the now twenty's face
for me no year an imagined moment
i curse how years quickly race.