Irate!
You push me over the edge.
Furious!
You don’t stop.
Enraged!
All you do is… that!
Infuriated!
I try to keep calm, but it just won’t work!
Angry!
Please stop it for goodness sake!
Fuming!
I’m becoming a bomb, ready to erupt!
Satisfied.

You’re royal.
You come in so many shades.
There is something about you that is…
Versatile.
You can be warm, inviting, cheery, and gay.
Yet, there is another side.
One that is darker and much more intense.
“How do you do it?” Is the question being asked.
You appear in the rainbow.
On stickers, in jewelry, on coats…
Somehow, you show up everywhere.
Yet, so many people forget you…
There’s something about you…
Radiant and full.
Bright and dark.
There and not there.
You’re the whole package.

I didn’t want something to happen.
It didn’t happen.
I didn’t sabotage anything.
I prayed that it wouldn’t happen.
Honestly, it was for the best that it never happened.
People may not know it now, but they will.
In due time.
As I look around me, I see things.
Some people are so happy that they’re laughing.
Others are devastated.
No words can be spoken.
They know they’ll get over it.
Some people don’t even care.
All they do is…
Nothing.
What do I do?
Laugh.
Cheer.
Hoot and holler in sheer delight.
This isn’t the greatest day of my life.
But I’m still happy.
I don’t feel bad in the slightest.
I don’t even look back.
Would You?

Many people think about the zombie apocalypse.
The dead are finally awaken.
The classic green skin.
Jet black hair.
Stitches all over their skin.
Jumbled up speech as if they’re drunk.
They walk with their arms in front of them.
All of the zombies walk together, hungry for brain.
The town as a whole screams in terror.
But then what?
The movie ends.
It’s the last page or chapter of the book.
We never find out what happens.
Does everyone die unanimously?
Do the zombies **** themselves?
Do we all live in harmony?
I don’t know.
I was merely curious.
Do you know?
If you do,
Then you can finish this poem.

I never studied…
I hardly opened my book.
Yeah, I showed up to class.
But all I did was play hangman with Griffin in the back of the class.
Nobody ever mentioned having a test.
Sur, it was on the board for a couple of weeks,
But I don’t read well!
And, it’s not like you can listen real well when you have earbuds in!
Besides, how useful is it to label a map when you’re going to play professional football or hockey?
Man, are my parents going to **** me.
It’s not like I completely failed the test…
I could label the U.S., Hawaii, and Alaska…
That would’ve been three points right there if I’d labeled the right things…
The teacher even went as far as making up names!
Colorado? Maine? Belgium?
And get this,
He didn’t even include all 53 states!
****… Trying to trip me up…
Besides, how many people were able to label 100 or more things on the world map?
How lame.
Oh God…
I see her in the parking lot.
She’s in the car, beckoning me over.
Before I can even comprehend what’s happening,
I find myself walking over.
I’m *******…
******* beyond belief…
I’ll never be able to play football or hockey again…
I open the door and slide in the front seat.
“How was your day?”
The interrogation starts.
“Fine! Why do you want to know?
It’s not like I’m failing my geography class!
It’s not like I’ll never be able to play hockey or football again because you’re going to ****** me once you see my test score!”
*******…
I just blew it.
Mom tightened her grip on the wheel.
Her knuckles were whiter than my new shoes.
I can’t believe I just did that.
The rest of the car ride was silence.
Sheer, pure, violent silence.

Starting with aardvark, ending with zygote.
Why are there so many words?
Who comes up with them all?
Why don’t we know them all?
Are there just as many words in other languages?
I’m writing, and am just realizing how many words there are.
Too many to count.
Yet, why are we so divided?
Why don’t we all speak the same language?
Wouldn’t that just make life easier?
Everyone could understand everyone else.
No more Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, or German…
Just plain English.
Or Latin, or Mandarin.
Whatever everyone wants to speak.
How many words would then be eliminated?
It’s crazy to think about that…
Yet interesting and calming…
To think that everyone could speak the same language…
Everyone use the same words.
Would that be simpler, or more complex?

We’ve all been called angels, right?
How is that possible, though?
Angels live in Heaven.
They are more pure than the freshly fallen snow on Winter’s Night.
Their wings are more delicate than eyelashes.
The gold halos atop their heads are harder than diamonds.
They’ve got pale skin that’s clearer and cleaner than a ******.
Angels are too perfect to live on Earth.
Humans are too marred and destructive to be angels.
How does anybody become an angel?
Does God keep the best ones for himself up in Heaven?
Why are angels so perfect?
What would the world be like if everyone was an angel?
Would the fun be taken out of life?
How perfect would the world really be?
If we all were angels, what would Heaven be like?
I just thought…
How do we even know what angels are?
What if we are all angels?
Why wonder…
Too many ifs.
Let’s not ruin our thoughts about some of the most wonderful things.