Hurry, hurry my mind screams to me,
Hurry, hurry my dreams sing to me,
Hurry not, hurry not my fear shrieks to me,
Hurry not, hurry not my doubts whisper to me.
Colors and shapes whiz about,
Colors and shapes take form and shout,
Colors and shapes become allies and smiles,
Colors and shapes hunt me down for miles.
My dream changes from the beginning until the end,
My dream takes a life of its own, both my enemy and friend,
My dream is both happiness and sorrow,
My dream is both the past and the unknown of tomorrow.
I am the queen of my castle,
I am the queen of my dawn,
I am the downfall of a nation,
I am the downfall of my lawn.
My dreams differ like the words within a rhyme,
My dreams differ like the sentence types thought of on a dime,
My dreams differ like the syllables of a lullaby,
My dreams are born of the night, and with this rising sun will die.
My dreams have carried me far on this restful night,
My dreams have done so much for me, giving my mind a fight,
For a sharp mind is something that everyone hopes to achieve,
For a sharp mind is a better battle weapon than that of a dull mind in it's sheath.
The People of Walmart
On this day I people-watch on a bench near the doors,
Seeing who is around and what they are buying.
One little old lady is scanning the shelves,
Looking for Drumsticks icecream to feed her grandchildren.
Further, a college student roams,
Looking for the dressing they will use on all foods.
In the middle a stressed out mom is buying gravy,
Herding several noisy and clumsy children.
Several highschool students go by, all without any form of grace,
As they look for snacks and drinks for their movie night.
A little boy is running his very first errand,
And is in the bakery section for the perfect pie he can buy.
All of these people are different and unique,
Each has their own stories, goals, and meals,
But there is one thing they all have in common-
And that is that Walmart is usually their first and last stop.
For the family who fed me a feast every year,
For the friends who were there for every laugh and tear,
For the teachers and professors who expanded my mind,
For the people I met who've shown me how to be kind,
For all of the things I have learned over time,
I am grateful that they have chased away my fear.
The clock struck midnight and the silence grew loud,
The clock struck midnight and the emptiness became a crowd,
The clock struck midnight and the dead were born anew,
The clock struck midnight as the dryness filled with dew.
The clock struck midnight and the people did not live,
The clock struck midnght and the donators did not give,
The clock struck midnight and the owls slept,
The clock struck midnight and the joyful wept.
The clock struck midnight and the prepared were unkempt,
The clock struck midnight and the happy were contempt,
The clock struck midnight and the sun rose high,
The clock struck midnight and the mute gave a sigh.
The clock struck midnight and nothing was right,
The clock struck midnight and the devil moved on out of sight.
The Paradox of Reality
Why are we here, amongst the trees so old,
Leaves fading from shimmering green to glittering gold?
Why am I here amongst the changing seasons of the earth,
Winds blowing around the sounds of sadness and mirth?
We all together are here for one purpose,
One reason that stands above all-
We are here to take the brunt of the attack,
And pave the way for something else to enthrall.
Evolution means change in a species over time,
A process that seems unfair and unkind,
It is painful to think we are a small stepping stone,
That others will walk over as they themselves grow.
But remember that not all is what it seems,
For we have also stepped on heads and toes and everything in between,
We have learned from the past to create something new,
But in the process have forgotten that we will one day have our heritage used too.
Everything we do now will either encourage or dissuay,
The frightfully ignorant youth of today,
Who will also learn and share what they learn from us,
And pass it on to the next generation that they will entrust.
So why are we here on this vivid or barren earth?
Are we to be used and tossed aside as a passing thought?
Or perhaps our purpose is to be a cultural hearth,
To create a world in which societal problems are naught?
I look left, I look right,
I look at all items in my sight,
The black ink taunts me day and night,
The constant guessing giving me a fright.
Where could it be,
On these soft pages I see,
All filled with colors so vivid,
And constant close misses that make me livid.
The room is warm, and dust floats about,
Weaving in intricate patterns as my brother gives a shout,
There o there is the item on the list,
A small paper clip hidden behind the violinist.
Item two is just as hard to find,
Hours are spent as we slowly lose our mind,
The item could be big or could be small,
The item could be short or could be tall.
Once again the afternoon sun lights the page,
The fan blowing the cool air despite its' age,
The gold lining of the cover is shimmering,
But despite the scene we are mentally whimpering.
Once again we have found an item from the list,
But for item three we must find another person to enlist,
As we do not know how to find a cello,
For all we know it is a type of jello!
Minutes turn to hours,
Hours turn to days,
Then days turn to weeks,
And victory is ours!
We found each item,
Each hidden treasure,
All five spiders,
And a sparkly purse for good measure.
This game is so much fun,
And the library summons us again,
For we will get another one of these,
And the fun will never end!
When the impossible became possible,
Many people were afraid.
When the possible seemed impossible,
The few others came to the aid.
The wind screeched and howled,
Sending people and animals running in fright,
But yet as others could attest to,
That evening was a calm evening night.
Everything and nothing happened all at once,
The land flooded and dried to a wisp,
Yet the rain was on no radar,
And the pools and lakes were full to the tip.
Yet The Man went unnoticed,
And yet was seen by foe and friend,
For this man had brought this horror,
But left them all entralled in the end.
For he had a face like no other,
For it simply could not be,
It was a face of mischief,
It was a shape of impossibility.
The shape called by a name whispered
Through fixed but destroyed streets.
Of the Impossible squared shaped head,
Of the Demon they had met, with his havoc greets.
(Critiques are appreciated, I don't know how I feel about this one...)