I still order chicken strips
(with a side of fries)
And when my cartoons go off
Sometimes I have to cry

I still kick my covers off
And refuse to sleep with socks
And when I go to the candy store
I still get sugar rocks

My Barbies still have boyfriends
(and better hair than me!)
My dessert is still 99% sprinkles
And 1% ice cream

My stuffed animals still have names
And they have feelings, too
I can't sleep with only one
I invite the whole **** crew!

I still have my night light
(shh! Don't tell my friends!)
And my math is still not very good
"5 plus 5 is 10!?!"

Despite my inner child
And my silly pointless fears
It seems in 15 years of living
I've aged a hundred years

She's beautiful
I look on with such envy
Remembering the days you held me
Full of self pity
Feeling empty
Wondering why I need a man to feel worthy
I spilt the milk and cried myself silly
Leaving the mess to remind me of my folly
Note to self : I'm sorry
As I wipe my own tears missing my stability
He never even loved me

is poetry your god
is that who you bow down to
believe me, I find it easy
to bow down to it too

but what happens when the words start fading
which all words do in time
whether it be from the written page
or the center of the mind

you say poetry brings you pleasure
hence forth the daily worship
but when the last line drops in rhyme
and your faced with all life's hardships

where is it you will go
where is it you will turn
you've worked hard for this god of yours
is this all that you have earned

in the church of poetic promise
where you worship every day
as you daily tithe do you wonder why  
there's still an empty offering plate

so while poetry brings great pleasure
it's not worth bowing down to
though I must say from past escapades
that's an easy thing to do