Nature has a hand that's skilled,
Her excellent design,
Transcend whatever Creator willed,
An art through time aligned,

Across generations,
Activity refined,
Which hone the shape of Nature,
A truth to which dogma blind,

All across Earth's spectrum,
All creatures, things progress,
In a linear direction,
No room to regress.

The dawn breaks as the sun sets anew
It's beautiful to be reminded; here's another promise
Of bigger opportunities or another breakthrough

This lilac sky holds the truth
That we are limitless, we are boundless
As our stories comes to unfold

We are not just a bag of bones
We are the nebulousness that fills voids
We are not just a vessel of consciousness
We are the seeds of the Universe.

But What About the Dog?

Bedtime is a poem written with love:
You change into your jammies at 8 o’clock
You wash your hands and face, you brush your teeth
You kneel beside your bed and say your prayers

And then the dog leaps up onto your pillow
And then your mother says the dog can’t stay
And then you plead, and doggie looks so sad
And then your mother sighs and says, “All right,

“But only for tonight,” then kisses you

(but not the dog)

Childhood is a poem written with love

i always tell everyone to not hurt themselves
yet i sit here
and i hurt myself
trying to help you
by giving you this adivce
im giving you peice after piece of my soul
and in return i get nothing
but a fake thank you
and some counterfeit conversations
yet i sit here alone and trying to just forge a smile
for the world to see
yet your smile is full and truthfull
because it's filled with the soul of mine
that i sold so you could be happy
and get over every conflict you've dealt
so i tell you to not hurt
yet i sit here and i give myself away
piece by piece
and bit by bit