An extrovert

Would hope to look back and find peace

In leaving the world a better place



An introvert

Would hope to look back and find peace

In leaving the world a better man

Don’t let the hot air get under your skin

You’ll burst by the tiniest ***** of a pin

If you have a strong fabric you’ll have room to vent

And a ***** here and there will not ruin your tent



There’s not so much pressure when there’s such room to breathe

Hot air may sneak in but in time it will leave

For nothing is able to come burst your bubble

If you’re skin has some give, you can sift through the rubble

Pens, tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.



Heals, clack,

Click, clack, click, clack

Click, clack, tap.



Clocks tick

Tock-tick, tock-tick

Click-tock, tick-clack, tap

Tap, clack, tick-tock, click



Keys tack

Ticka-tacka, ticka-ticka, tack

Ticka-tacka clack, tick, tap, ticka-ticka, tack, tock, ticka-click tick

Tick, tock, tick, tock, ticka-tacka, clicka-clacka tick, tock, tap-tap-tap-tap, ticka-tacka-clicka-clacka-ticka-tocka tap—

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap….

We travelled sunny Manhattan, my family and I

On the top of a double decker, to see what scrapes the sky

The bus saw it all, Times Square, Empire State,

Broadway, Wall Street, Central Park, it was great!



When we drove by the office buildings, I saw a large set of stairs

It was beautifully vast with a refreshing air

Dozens of suited workers were scattered about

Some sat there to rest, some went up, some went down…



There was one man who sat there and really drew my eye

When I looked the time slowed and I wasn’t sure why

He was generically handsome in a way that was vague

And was contently unrolling his brown paper bag

In a dress-shirt and tie, his blazer set aside

He sat, eating a sandwich with a surreal air of pride

Unlike your average stressed out business man

He was at ease with himself, sandwich in hand



As the moment had passed our bus travelled on

And just like that, the young man was gone

We finished the tour and returned to our hotel

We relaxed in our room and gabbed and shared tell

Of our thoughts of the tour we had taken that day

“One thing I noticed,” I heard my mom say

(I could already tell what she was about to relay)

“was this man in a suit who made quite a display,

eating lunch on some stairs, I kept looking his way”



I could hardly believe it, that she saw him too

I expressed in excitement, that I totally knew

Precisely the man she was talking about

“I saw him too!” I heard my dad and bro shout

We all laughed in surprise that of all the people we saw

To that very same man, we all had been drawn



What was it about him that made him stand out so much?

He was only a man just enjoying his lunch

He just seemed so content and at peace with himself

His aura made it clear of his internal wealth

What was it that set such a grand vibe in motion?

Perhaps he had just been handed out a promotion

It could be that his un-ignorable gleam

Was the personification of the Manhattan dream

Or maybe he was just basking in the warm sunny day

Whatever it was, we all felt his array



I wonder if that moment when we looked from the bus

Was as important to him as it had been to us

I can’t help but feel like it must have been

Cause whatever he was feeling drew all eyes to him

And so he rebuilt his lovely home

All on his own

After someone had knocked it down

For no reason at all



It was a lovely piece of art

Until it was torn apart

Out of spite

It isn’t right



But the little spider wasn’t phased

Right away, he began to reconstruct his maze

For that home did not just keep him alive

It was his pride



And when some careless fool

Put his hand through the spool

He did not dare quit

Once, again began to knit

For what the fool had dared commit

Would not dampen him one little bit



It was not a blow by any means

It was a chance for him to gleam

And do what he does best

Because he knows that the next

Will be better than the rest

I swear I’m not attempting to confuse

It’s not a riddle left for you to find

I try my best to clarify my muse

The way the world reflects upon my mind



I understand it isn’t always clear

The message that I’m trying to portray

It’s often crammed by rules I must adhere

And thoughts I’m not quite sure of how to say



I promise poetry is not a riddle

But it’s not always an easy thing to do

You have to try to meet me in the middle

So I can open up my mind to you



It isn’t always easy, I confess

It’s not a riddle though, it’s an express

The children all had boxes

With all the things they’d learn to do

When they heard the bell, away with one

And out another for something new



Each box had printed fabrics:

One with numbers, one with notes,

One with maps and little flags,

One with microscopes…



One day, just by accident

Someone knocked the boxes on the floor

The fabrics scattered everywhere

What piece went where, we weren’t sure



But it didn’t take to long to see

What needed to be done

We grabbed some scissors, cut them up

And weaved them into one



Turns out we didn’t need the boxes

They took up too much space

Now we had a lovely quilt

With all the fabrics we had laced



Our quilt now hangs upon the wall

Its much more pleasing to the eye

Instead of hiding in those boxes

We can see them all the time