On a ledge
Wings outstretched
At the edge
Of the nest

Will I fall
Will I go
In a moment
I will know

Pencils
Pencils are just like people.
The harder you push, the darker and darker the lines get.
The harder the imprint is.
Sometimes, those imprints last forever.
But once you push too hard.
They break.

The trees you see outside.
So pretty and green.
They grow so tall.
Some of them have a lean.

The smiling faces across the street.
Inviting and warm.
Some, bitter sweet.

The kisses and hugs and love and cheer.
Trust me, it won’t last more than a couple years.

The kids outside.
They’re all fake.
They’re inside, online.
Looking for friends to make.

This world in general.
All sorts of messed up.
If maybe, just maybe, someone would look up.

And see all the hate.
All the ****.
All the drugs.
All the violence.

Maybe someone will realize.
It’s all bullsh*t.

cometh now,
deep from within,
i seek thy crown.

dreading chagrin,
deep down,
i begin.

delightful sound,
may i ascend
or am i bound?