When the word was made,
There was nothing.
One thing was made, then another.
The had many sisters and brothers.
Over time, they grew,
Into me and you.
We survived off the water,
from which we were born,
Until the 7 deadly storms.
They killed the ones who didn't survive,
and left the survivors still alive.
Now we are here,
me, and you
Turning the world back to nothing.

scared to be seen in life
afraid to show my light
always taught to hide your tears
never show any.....
maybe the word is life.
they would all tease my perfection
but when i had become incomplete,
they just laughed at.....
probably me.
i have problems,
now i show them.
showing to the public,
the strangers.....
and outcasts like me.
my only escape from reality is poetry
and there,
i will not be the person to be
laughing at.
i survive day and night remembering
the people who tease me,
having pity on their souls because
they feed off the the others.....
well, this time i cant find a word.
this is not a perfect poem.
and people who are mean to a creature of such
ability, like us
are showing only a reflection of themselves and
how small they really are.
you are nobody to be
less than what you were created to be.
be unique, no
be,
no just....
um......
i need a word?

joy.
dancing about us,
communicating itself to us,
Overpowered with emotion,
They had not heard,
but they have seen
a place of safety.
I embarked
near midday
we coasted
without discovering anything,
the illusion of
calm reflection,
courage.
No words can express the sentiments.

Sometimes, when I look outside,
I see many things.
I see many things like:
A bluebird in a tree
singing a song of sorrow or enlightenment,
A sparrow sitting in a nest,
I see all the things around me,
all the surroundings,

And the spot where you should be.