I came to an art show,
where a friend stood proudly beside his painting.
Many people liked it,
and it made him genuinely happy.
So I tried making a painting of my own,
and I hung it beside his.

Seeing all of the other artists’ paintings.
Beautiful palettes of color and hue.
I could see why flocks of people
were huddled up in front of it,
praising the artist for his tremendous work.

I made it my goal to improve my painting.
And so I did.
People liked it, huddled around it, praised it.
And I genuinely felt happy.

My other friends saw how lovely,
all the paintings were.
So they decided to make their own,
all of them, three.

I was astonished…proud…happy
to see people huddled around each of their paintings,
praising them for what they did.
And they felt genuinely happy.

All was good, until one day,
when one friend said,
“Hey, let’s make this fun and interesting, and play a game,
whoever gets the most praise at the end of the year,
wins.”

I didn’t want this to be…
I never wanted this to be just
another competition.
Just another stage,
to brag how great they are.

I hope,
that this will never come to that.
You are all artists in your own special way.
You don’t have to get all the praise,
to know you’re good.

Continue making those awesome paintings.
Never stop improving them.
Because one day, I know,
people will start huddling
around yours.

If we were given the choice,
a choice to spend forever
in a moment of past,
what would it be?

Would it be,
a vacation,
a sunset at the beach?

Would it be,
in a mall,
shopping with friends?

Would it be,
a house visit,
or something more?

For me, it would be,
that day after school,
standing in the court of hoops,

with you.

I can honestly say,
I fell down the rabbit hole that was you,
Unable to keep my grip.
Got lost in those eyes,
that pull me in
closer to oblivion.
Drowned in the liquid that was your being.
I couldn't do anything.
I felt so helpless.
But back then, I loved helpless.

loved

But now that it's all over,
I don't want you to forget.
All those moments together,
were they all a dream?
Those days,
where our eyes would meet.
Are they to be locked up?
Another forgotten memory?

I'm glad I climbed out of the rabbit hole.
I'm glad I fought back.
I'm glad I didn't drown.
Now, since there is another,
there is one thing.
One thing I hope I accomplished.

*Is that I was somebody to you

You love to dance
And you tell me it defines you
I knew you had told me nothing but the truth
As your body took the reigns and my gaze was glued

You like being looked at
Because the muddy, sloppy side of you kicks in
To you, it doesn't matter who stares
As long as you could get to pull them in

You love the taste of blood in your mouth
But you feel so much strongly for a pair of lips
Crushed against your own
With a pair of hands snaking toward your hips

You don't care about the hands
At least that's what I've heard
But I got the impression that maybe, just maybe
You just need someone to say the word

You aren't valued so well, John
And I am angered by the objectification of you
Maybe, just maybe it could be you and me
We can make it happen if you get the clue