time
time
time
it’s slipping away
why won’t it stop?
why won’t it stay?
time
time
time
please wait.

The not not bird
listens to its not not song
in the not not tree
near my not not door.

And in its song it hears
something not not grand
compared to all the other
not not birds
in all the other not not lands.

The not not bird
doesn’t know
all the not not things
it’s suppose not to know.

It sees not the not not leaves
written in this poetry.
Smells not the not not flowers
swaying not in the not not breeze.
Hears not the buzzing of not not wings
of all the yellow not not bees
supping on all this wondrous not not majesty.

For this not not door of mine
is neither not not open
nor not not close.
For that is not the not not providence
of this not not poem to define.

I choose wether or not
all this not not nonsense
shall be or not not be
in some future not not prosody.

For those who beg to decline
I privy thee to write
your own **** not not rhyme!

18
What a strange age

Expected to grow up
Expected to change

But there is a problem
With what they request,
I’m not quite done growing
And I’m still quite a mess

They tell me I’m ready
That I have to move on

Won’t somebody tell me
Where my childhood’s gone?

What are these taxes?
Why must I move out?
If I haven’t the money,
Shall I sleep on the ground?

Nobody told me
How to accept
The loss of my childhood
As a normal event

It may not have been nice
And it may not have been good
And I might have been through stuff
That no child should

But I am not ready
To give it all up
To trade for my hours,
Everyday at a job

I don’t know how to fight it
I’m not sure I can

But at least I am finding
The person I am

At 18 I’m growing
And I’ll keep in my hand
That of another me,
The one of my Past

i am not teacher
you are not ignorant mind
you create meaning