Life's not about be like.
It's about love.
Being seen as someone lovable and wonderful.

Life's not about war.
Especially when peace motivates all of us.
But some loves distraction.

Life's not about being the same.
Some differences must remain.
Least to keep us from going insane.

Like scriptures that confuses many of us.
Like the argument of the creation of earth.
Sometimes, we more confused by the leaders of our churches.

Love, is about God.
Didn't he give us the gift of Jesus.
Even the atheist knows the name of him.

Run
Run little boy
Try not to look around at the ones around you
They are staring.

Run
Run little man
He ran, so you run, because you're afraid.

Run,
And keep running

Don't you wish there was a place we could go
A place where only we know about
A paradise
A utopia
All our mistakes,
Forgotten
All our ***** ups
Out of mind
Everything we did
Everything we regret,
Gone
There's only the present,
you and me,
And the new memories we create.

Our mistakes make us who we are
We can't change them
We can't forget them
There is no utopia
There's no paradise
There's just people
And their ***** ups
But that's life
And life is unfair
Once you realize that
Everything makes a lot more sense

Why ain't you improvin'
Whatever is holding you back ain't real
But you made it come alive
You invented a thief that likes to steal
You invented a dream you can't feel
Wake up
Walk outside and find yourself
Then claim it
It takes a long time to master it
If you don't try then who you are will reject you
That's the pain you feel
It's you rebelling from the thief
Who let him in the house?
You did
So why ain't you improvin'
It doesn't matter where you were born
Who your parents are
What church you were raised in
What flag you salute
Who you really are may be a thousand miles away
If you can't find it then you ain't looking hard enough

Driving on this electric highway,
it shoots to be the
monkey on the back.
White, green, in a bottle or a machine.
Foul breath screams out
words that I hold dear.

Holding up a candle
by its burning wick,
while a sea breeze
slaps me with a salty sting.

Fumbling through an atmosphere
joined tongue and groove,
from the first breath to the last
the artichoke heart pumps out the beat.

One foot in front of the other,
another swing and the pinata breaks,
raining down lies to be gathered up
and taken home
to be stretched out and hung
alongside the truths.

sometimes my words can hit so instantly
that just the way that  they flow from me
powered by imagination is the best to be
its at my fingertips and its my magic key
I put my heart and soul in my creativity
making masterpieces throughout my poetry

My grandfather died the other day.
A man I called "papa"-
his breath was stolen away.
A man of few words but
many smiles when you earned them.
In the 18 years I knew him
I only heard "I love you" sometimes.
Sometimes was enough though
because what he said he meant
He was father to my mom and aunt
when they had none.
He was my grandfather
and now he's gone.

I loved him, though I said it so few times.
I wish I had said it more,
but I think he knew in his mind.

My mom and aunt called him superman,
and that he was to everyone.
He was always ready to lend a hand,
especially when it came to fixing cars.

He loved his wife, my Nana.
I never heard him say it, but I saw it.
The way he teased her and
glances he stole even after 45 years
said it all in the end.

I lost my Papa the other day,
but he's in heaven now
so it's okay.
He was loved and he will be missed,
but he's free of pain now
so we can only rejoice.

See you later, Papa.
                -Carolyne