Influences
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Part I:
Once upon a time not so very long ago
Romantics aspired for high class views
While maintaining minds that were opposed to prose.
In all their writings they embellished upon
Upon birth, a seed of thought is planted
And smothered in soil
Until its cultivators find
That they’re ready to water it,
Thank you for driving me crazy
Thank you for running around
Thank you for your forgetfulness
Thank you for your meltdown
Thank you for your blanket forts
Thank you for your building blocks
At five o'clock in the morning,
On a bright Saturday,
When everyone else is still at rest,
The Man With The Shovel is long gone,
Working to provide for his family in anyway he can.
At five o'clock in the morning,
On a bright Saturday,
When everyone else is still at rest,
The Man With The Shovel is long gone,
Working to provide for his family in anyway he can.
I am a student with a matching face and worn frayed edges at the bottom of my pants,
I may blend in with the other faces, but I am a sunbathed rock in a river of rocks,
My mother is the queen,
For control is all that matters.
My father is the king,
The foreseer of decisions.
Mother fends for her bishops,
But they cannot save her children.
lately my grandmother has been practicing her english with the phrase:
no one should have to die with pain and suffering
the pencil marks bow through the pages so earnestly
I use poetry to bring fort important discussions,
I don't believe in limiting topics because I'm young,
But for starters, I've lost friends,
They're legal and I'm just a teen,
Life seems frugal with a hint of mean,
