A stem is gone,
The leaves won’t shiver,
As the wind swirl around

A portrait that is blank,
A sky, austere as dust
Sprinkle on the blue view

Of your eyes that see no stem,

That holds petals
And leaves,
That won’t quiver,

Because the earth is wrinkled.

I have a thousand and one thoughts
And all are for you.
I'll think them a thousand and one times,
It's all I can do.
There's a thousand and one things
That I wish to say.
I've tried a thousand and one times,
But I can't find the way.
I've seen a thousand and one
Different ways that you smile,
And in a thousand and one ways
Each make things worthwhile.
So for the thousand and one times
We'll never be,
There's the thousand and one times
You're everything to me.

All these songs have lost their meaning
...all these songs,
they used to be about you.
It seems that I can't write if I'm not in love
I can't write if I'm not in pain
If I'm not enveloped in a
feeling...then I'm completely emotionless
A real poet could find meaning in anything
Love in a sea of hatred
Pain in a time of joy.
My writings are trivial
...subject to my surroundings and my emotions in the moment.
In a quick second things can change
And I won't recognize my own words.
A real poet would.

I am not the captain of industry.
I am not the girl next door.

I do not dream of going to outer space.
I do not want to help the masses.

I can not rise above all my peers.
I can not charm the pants off of anyone.

I will not break the glass ceiling.
I will not play in the big leagues.

I refuse to do what I should.
I refuse to be whom I admire.

I have no hope for world peace.
I have no ***** of steel.

I get no true joy from hard work.
I get no chances of a lifetime.

I own no true name.
I own no family money.

I feel no rhythm in my feet.
I feel no calling to a higher purpose.

I won’t respect my elders.
I won’t play nice with the other kids.

I am not who I wished to be when I grew up,
But I keep trying because
I am/have/get/own/feel/love me.