If Earth is like a pebble,
then isn't skipping rocks,
just like destroying planets?
And if it is,
then are we all monsters?
What if the little rock-people,
see what's coming,
and decide to attack us?
What if all these years,
we've been drowning aliens,
just to pass time?
Time spent waiting,
to meet an alien.

There was this kid once, who went on an adventure-
to Coborns...
(Let's get this straight, right now, this kid wasn't me,)
Following the gray cement pathway she walked,
But the kid had this thing about bugs...
She never did like them much, but she liked them
Even less squished on the sidewalk with guts-
Spewing all over.
So this odd little kid walked purposefully,
But stared at the ground, so as not to trample one
Of those nasty bugs with her relatively clean shoes.
Well, the one time she glanced at the glistening waters
With birds swimming atop, she heard the noise,
Felt the crunch, of a massive cricket.
She didn't have to see it to know what it was,
Every detail of the pancaked thing was etched
Into the bottom of her gorey tennis-shoed foot.
The rest of the way to Coborns, she felt the cricket's body.
It wasn't stuck to her shoe, she was quiet certain,
But the after-image in her mind wouldn't let
The feeling of the cricket out of her thoughts.

On the return trip home, this girl,
(who, just to re-iterate, isn't me), made sure
To stop looking down when she neared the place of
The squashing. And to this day, she still wont
Look down when walking to Coborns.

Singing along to the music,
Dancing around in the crick,
Frolicking in the moonlight,
Acting stupid 'cause it's night
And nobody can hear us,
Because the trees wisper "hush,"

Circling the bonfire
Of twigs and sticks,
Fuel to the desire,
To test out some drinks,
Because nobody will hear,
The trees still wisper "hush,"


We'll fall to the ground,
In drunken mounds,
Not stiring till noon,
Even that's too soon,
We hear leaves swaying,
The trees are wispering "hush,"

We drink some more,
And then there are four
Of us still standing,
'Till we start puking,
And the world goes dark,
And the trees wisper "hush,"

Lask week I cleaned my room for the first time in ages,
And wouldn't you know, I found something interesting...
I found a story I had started as a kid, tucked away in a folder-
Burried amidst a graveyard of clothes in my closet.
I stopped my cleaning and turned off the radio,
And read the words written in a childish scrawl.
It was something about dragons and magic
And adventures. It wasn't half bad, for a child's story.
But, as I neared the end of the last page I found, to my horror,
That the story from my past ended...

Mid-sentence.