What  I had , I gave
What I spent , I had
What I kept, I lost

What you do for yourself, you take
with you when you die.
What you do for others is timeless.

Weave
Words
So
Beautifully
As
They
Are
Petals
Blooming
On
Your
Lips!

Every
Small invention

Came from a
Small thought

The thought
Became a dream

The dream
Got colors
And wings

Finally

Got strength
To fly

in every nook
and corner
of the world...

What is different about your trunk?
Said the Cedar to the Ash.
It's rotten, ere forgotten,
And its branches have long gone.

What is different about your leaves?
Asked the Oak to the Holly.
They're pointed and disjointed
And their colour has gone dark.

What is different about your boughs?
Asked the Poplar to the Yew.
They're leveled and disheveled.
Do you like them? Oh I do.

The sunlight is fanned by your boughs, dear Yew,
Rain makes night seem longer on your leaves, my Holly
Your trunk may be rotten, dear Ash, but it is terribly untrue
To say that it does worse than any other.

The forest lights with sunly sprights
And I will walk among the trees
And hear the sounds and see the sights
Of a nature much more at ease.

I'm a white, male,
American dreamsicle
who says "****"
way too much
to not be cool.

I read about my father issues
on my mother's face.
I hate things and people
because the news told me to.
Art is ****** and ****** is art;
when Billy killed Sue,
my heart raced.
Do drugs with me
or do none at all;
promise me when we're high
we won't fall.

There are ******* on the street
and the cops are shooting them.
There are ******* kissing
and old, white men are scared.
There are mentally ill people
and they are "seeking attention".
There are women with voices
and old, white men are scared.

I am an American Dreamsicle:
cold, unhealthy, and killing your kids.
You can buy me for 40% off
and I promise to take 60% of your ideals.
I am what my parents don't want me to be
and that is the appeal.
Little do I know, I am every thing you are
and that is my cancer.