We are an opposite, contrary people:
We want our summers cool
And our winters warm.
Who's not to say
There already has been a global warming
Taking effect
In the forecast of fantasy?

I’m not mad,
I’m not mean,
Unlike the dual-colored monster:
The Big Blue-Green.

The Blue Green’s not orange
And especially not yellow,
Because he’s as irate
As the red of the rainbow.

Don’t call that Blue-Green pink
And definitely not purple,
Or prepare to give into
A raging Blue-Green whirlpool.

All the other colors
Turn faint white
As they cower before
The Blue-Green’s might.

What can the Blue-Green do?
It’s only two colors.
Ah, that’s the Blue-Green’s trick
To entrap some fellers.

The Blue-Green doesn’t dye,
Nor lives as a vision to glance,
But it’s the fear inside you
Whipping its lance.

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose ***** snow has lain,
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me
But only God can make a tree.

Get out!
Stop ruining my life!
Your words, they destroy my future,
Like a bullet, bomb, knife.
In other words
Shut up

Though words plainly expand the levitation of gases,
I still feel a twitch in my nerves when you talk,
Like anything I have ever said was meaningless;
Yet, when I express that your speech bothers my sensory system,
I feel a guilt
That I am the one who changed you
For my own satisfaction.
Why do I cater to myself
Instead of I who am more considerate?

Have you seen my ring?
Its old now, and worn out
Its seen fights, and tears
Through the years, through every outcome
It sat right between my pinky and my thumb
Not the finger I used to point out what was going wrong
Or the one I used to say "I never loved you either"
It was on the next one, over.
I wore it proudly, it brought me a sense of worth
Now that its missing i'll move heaven and earth to find it
My hand is confused
That finger forever internally bruised
From the force of losing it so quickly
It thickly layered scarring on my heart
It is tarring me apart
I would give anything to find my missing ring