A Year's Worth of Rhymes
What rhymes with cancer?
My mother.
But it’s not the introduction to death
That made me who I am,
It’s the thought of when I will take my own last breath.
When will I be burned into nothing more than a kilogram?
When my mom will die
I can not say,
But what she has taught me is to not let life fly by.
I realized I want to pursue ballet
And art
And unanswerable questions.
There is no time to waste, I shouldn’t guard my heart.
I need to be open to suggestions
And pursue what I love
Because tommorow,
I might be sent to the above
And life never goes slow.
What rhymes with my mother?
An author.
That is what I want to be.
It only took me a pound of doubt
And five hundred ten years divided by thirty
To figure that out.
But why should I write?
I couldn’t answer this for a long time.
Then I realized I want to shed light
And change people’s minds
On things like perfection,
Politics, and prejudice.
I need to inspire and create a new direction
Where people are open to forgiveness.
I want to make people laugh
And think and rejoice and cry
So when it is time to engrave my epitaph,
My books will still be here three hundred years from next July.
What rhymes with author?
Nothing other than her
I am her.
I have no more time to live than anyone else
And I pray my life will never become a blur
Because I am myself.
I have no clue as to when I could die,
So I will try not to waste any time.
After all,
If my mom has taught me anything this year,
It is that life is always too small
And I love writing too much to not make it a career.