I look at you and see.

a person look at me,
unsure of what she’ll be,
she assumes her eyes deceive.

Won't listen to her vision
Misconception for a livin.
Her perception isn't vivid.
Opinions become twisted.

Confused but she believes
that she’s better as a we.

Singular is scarier,
than living life naive.

Oh the things she could achieve,
success and reach her dreams.

*But dreams start *inside that heart worn on your sweater sleeve

I think that I shall never see
A leaf as lovely without a tree
When it falls upon the ground
So gently placed to be found.
A child gathers it in her hands
Carefully places it on the sands
Hoping to grow a brand new tree
For all the world new life to see.

Why do I care so much?
Can I not say what's on my mind,
when it needs to be said?
It's frustrating.
But you wouldn't know,
since all I ever talk about
is the fake ******* I know you wanna hear.
Because who would ever want
to know what's on my mind?
No one.
Anyway,
don't you remember?
You said "it's **** well obvious.."--
it's **** well obvious
that I'm done.

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for." - John Keating, Dead Poets Society (1989)

*As a child I loved you Mork, as an adult you taught me the fine line between laughter and despair.