I want to touch a tree.
Not just any tree.
A tree with big green leaves.
I miss the shade trees
give on hot summer days.
The way they smelled, not
like a flower, just the
overall smell of nature.
I want to sit on

Falling , falling down to earth
toward the place I was given birth
I close my eyes and count to three
A sad requiem for an unknown dream.
Why is it that people of this nation
Are only in it for the fascination?
Always on the run

I hate putting my family through pain
If I could wrong my rights I would be sane
Until that point I hang my head in shame

I wish not but blame myself

For what I did I know not
Help
They know I do have faith
Even though I’m in this deep dark place

While walking in the art store today.
I overheard a color pencil box
With many things to say

“I don’t like the Red,” said the Orange
and Green said, “Nor do I”
and no one likes Yellow
But no one knows just why

Hatred melts away
Madness peels back from my mind
Wrongs are diluted

Accompany me
To a place so far away
Let us reside there

Sit in wait of me
Yet we are still together
Take long walks with me

Come with me into these memories
Where grown-ups are not allowed
Across the deep concrete river
Where in giant hollow owl’s eyes
You can hear the hidden bears’ growls.
Beneath high branches curved like arches
Their leaves intertwined

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,

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

Left only is the echo of the water’s laugh
The birds’ little whispers still can be heard.
The moon isn’t full, it’s only half
Sun’s clear rays have been made fuzzy and blurred.
Melody misses Harmony-her friend
Nightime longs to hear the old barn owl’s hoo.

Winter seems like an endless calm.

When the cold surrounds us,

and the darkness makes the streets disappear,

the world’s turning seems to slow down.

You can see footprints start and footprints

stop,

leading somewhere,

going nowhere.

I sit there, in my own little world.

The fountain flows like a babbling brook as I inhale deeply.

 I’m alone with my thoughts, and nothing else.

Just me, I sit on a smooth rock in the middle of the lake.

The soft murmur of kids