you picked me up
and spread me apart
over and over
leaving your notes
in the margins
and fingerprints
on my pages.
now no matter
who reads me
all they can see is you,
staining each page
with blue ink
and a hopeful heart.

What can you do that hasn't been done before?
There are but the same words
To churn and repeat
Taking on a new form
With each different pen.

I'm an unknown book on a shelf
That one forgets to treat with care
Passed around among many people,
Alas! I've aged with wear and tear.

I don't recall to whom I belonged
Who once penned my words in fading ink
I'm not as strong as I used to be
I'm only a novel- I can't think.

I'm looking for a gentle owner
Who enjoys reading without pretense,
Keeping me safe, worn pages intact,
The one who'll cherish my existence.

All my life I was lost and clueless,
growing up with no filter and foolishness.
With no family to love and care for me,
I don't know how they could leave and betray me.

No eyes focused on me because of my low I.Q,
my life has changed because of the help from a few.
With scientists helping me to become smart,
I am now realizing my life from the start.

All hopes come crashing down,
I'm going back to looking like a clown.
It was great while it lasted,
all I want to say is don't take life for granted.

shouldn't be afraid to die,
i am

I’ve lived in a thousand lives,
seen a thousand faces;
I’ve walked the shoes of fairies,
carried adrift by silk strewn laces.

I’ve kissed a thousand suns,
beguiled a thousand moons;
I’ve danced on the arms of Queens,
crown jewels shimmering in the afternoon.

I’ve seen a thousand worlds,
yet yearn for a thousand more;
for it is these stories that bind my soul
to the living world beneath my door.

A little cough, no worries, it will go away
More irritable next day, worrisome by third
Had better see a doc, but slept the last that night

Scattered world wide, by planeloads, unrevealed, unknown
Germinate in a week, spawn on breath, speech of death
Revived ancient bug, mutated, drug resistant.

Pandemics, long with us: Black Death was not the first
Now global rapid spread, global rapid response
Always ready, always surprised, always novel.

The fit didn’t survive, the survivors, the fittest
Catastrophic selection, months, not million years
Emptied earth, cleaned, reclaimed, to be fought for, again.