Spring brings forth life by the hour
Bees flap their little wings
In violent search for a various flowers
In my loneliness, I am waiting

Like a bud restless to change
As the sun laves my petals where the dew stays
And alerted by the sudden rain after a long summer
I am waiting for the touch of clear water

I am eager to witness the winter
In all its splendor, I might shrivel and die
Or luckily I might escape with a perpetual shiver
I wish to spread my wings despite the ravages of time

I am waiting for spring to blossom
I want my spring now

When the Lord closes
A door, he opens a window
So, that you can jump out of it

First crush
Last love
There is no in-between

Why does poetry have to be shallow?
We will look for another planet soon enough
From ridge to valley, pastures facing the constant plough
Soon the California fires will be put out by the dying hours

We will change up the entire planet
From country to country, and we will barely recognize Brooklyn
Under the stars or the sun as none will be seen in oblivion
And humans would dream big, doing little to change things

We could take the signs as they are
But, the diplomacy-the international dream- runs so deep!
Are we trying to scheme ourselves out of the consequence
By ignoring the battle we have at hand, claiming false innocence

Are we calling an impending doom with our actions?
Does the eternal river of Styx turn green in the next century
Or do we continue to choose between Scylla and Charybdis
Making the wrong choices, ashamed of our previous decisions