There are people in this room
that don’t deserve to be here.

Exhibit A’s intimate circle
gathers ‘round the VIP computers
designated for those
who manage,
for lack of any other skill,
to commence their daily whispering war.

Though I am not great
I have become a name*
The problems I’ve faced
The tasks I’ve completed
Have made me this name

On the outside I am a Superhero,
A lively, ambitious girl anyone can count on.
No matter the risk, anguish, or pain it causes me,
I will do anything I can to help others with a smile on my face.
On the inside however is where I console my secret identity.

Being young is hard;
 often feeling all alone.
 Your hair is a mess
 and your face is
breaking out.
 Being young is hard.
You aren’t quite sure of your friends,
 you’re stressed out;
 don’t know if you’re being “cool”.

Inside the window, a family you’ll see
A mother, a father, brothers, and
dogs as earsplitting as can be
But this family is the best
Superior to all the rest
Because this family has a bond
We’re all rather fond of
Stick together through harsh times

Anxiously tearing open the
shimmering sealed package
Ignoring die red symbols
that embellish the wrappage
Considering this cookie holds
my future unknown
Depending on the message
I’m sure to cheer or moan
My Mom opens one of Happiness

Sad
Hiding
Anger
Heart beating faster
Sweating
Embarrassed
Foul Friends
Ganging up on me
Frightening
Victim
Bullied
Wanted popularity
Gossip
Crying
Anxious to leave
Run away
Needed to vent

From afar
          it melts into the brush.
Thick, thorny weeds
          ravage its pitiful landscape.
It is forbidding terrain,
          with a pothole landmine and shattered windows,
          looking like gouged eye sockets.

I sit in my bed,
Rain pouring outside,
Sadness of the past flooding through my windows,
The night that my father left,
The day he decided I did not matter,
At a young age,
I was left alone,
On a rainy night like this one,
Hours past,

She was like a spider.
Walking youthfully and childlike,
on the verge of being crushed.

She was robbed of her innocence,
it was taken away before her prime.
She sat staring out the window,
the tears falling like the rain outside.

Alone,
I wait for
you.

I sit quietly
and picture
you,
wondering if
you will still
come.

Sometimes, when the soft spring rain
slowly soaks the earth,
And lightly fingers everything,
Giving it a coat of droplets,
The color of everything begins to fade...
It darkens out the colors
And smooths out texture.
It creates a soft scene,

Was’ up with you and me
can you tell me that
I think the way you have been treating me
is flat out whack
I’ve been putting myself out there
as the months have gone by
But no matter how far we get
you continue to pull back

A secret that was not meant for ears,
Would be told for many years.
Some whispered words meant for a friend,
Would be overheard and spread without end.

What shall be wrong with me?
What shall I fear
What shall be wrong with me
is nothing I fear
For
If I shall fear what is wrong with me
I shall only fear myself
Even though you shall see me
you shall not know.

I am the quiet little Hispanic girl,
Light skinned
people make fun of me
they say I am not the color I’m supposed to be.
But who cares? It’s me not you!

Truth is lost in our society.
It’s constantly altered into lies
that we all think is true but isn’t.
Truth, although harshly real,
is transformed into gossip
confusing its listeners.
Sliding off the tongues
of well trained liars

Every time that you
promise It puts me in this
constant positive mood then
you let me down

why don’t you just stop it?

Getting my hopes up so high
why would you even bother?
This relationship slightly
reminding me of my father

Honestly, if you ever think about it
No one ever knows where to turn,
The corridors are melting into hallways
These hallways are melting into hell.

Life to all, the empty promise
I’ve found something new
Take your script and watch it slip through
Cracks so obvious

And we still fight in vain
Who’s the one that wins?
No one’s truly saved
No room left to swim
Life to all, the empty promise

Silence is here again.
No whispering trees
Not even a howl from the wind.
The river no longer laughs.
The sounds of our happiness are gone,
But I will never forget that bright autumn day

The mountain trail is steep, and even I am having a hard time staying upright. The ridge I’m on is rocky and desolate, and I am the only thing moving. My chest is heaving as I struggle over the treacherous granite.

Life is a never-ending coil
With twists and turns
And you are the one thing that I did not count on.

You are the mistake in a waltz.

1
2
3

1
2
3

1
2
3

1
2
3
4

Standing on this stage, my life flashing before
My eyes, I remember a time of Youthful
Bliss where the impossible was possible.

Singing sweet melodies to Snow White and
The Wicked Witch, six with fans hanging
On to my every Judy Garland high note.

Yeah, I’m a dreamer,
I dream of so many things.

But do you know what separates all
you other dreamers from me?
You all actually work to achieve your
dreams, you
dream about the future and what you
want to become.

part one

The lovely tune sounding brilliantly through the air
Wonderful feelings as the clear notes catch
The song shines and gleams, its rays golden and fair

There is a thing that is stronger than yourself,
That is from you; its plan is one of stealth.
White-hot insults out of a mouth are poured,
Never underestimate the power of a word!

Poetry is nothing
But everything

Dances in dreams
That vanish when you wake
Coffee and cream
With a taste of cake

Simplicity found
In a hard drive
Books bound
To stay in an archive

Sometimes I just sit there,
waiting to be struck,
with one poetic thought.
Other times I am struck,
with a line to my poem,
and I have nowhere,
to write it down.
Inspiration comes from,
nature and the world.
It comes from the people,