Sonnet #1

My love stands with a firm stature,
A man standing apart from boys,
Chiselled frame and seducing gesture,
His eyes have known many joys.
Alas when alone thy face does turn,
From fearless man to caring lover,
A beating heart full of concern,
Hiding wishes to love and nurture.
The man thy thought to be,
Now a cracked stone shown to bleed,
Weakened for the world to see,
From your image you’ve been freed.
I’ll love you for your heart,
Though destined we stay apart.

religion can give you hope!

Do you believe in love? Believe in something you can’t see, touch or smell? But you can feel it, experience it. It brings you great pain or it will bring you amazing pleasure. You can’t hold in your hands, the only place for it is in your heart. It is so widely accepted to believe in love, yet so hard to believe in G-d. You may not be able to see him in our life but just like love you can let him into your heart or not. People will do almost anything for love, to have it, to hold onto it; yet some people will put more energy into disproving G-d then they would need to just accept him. Spend hours creating situations to disprove the existence of him yet spend hours searching for love. We are willing to put so much trust into another person, yet not g-d. Some things I will never understand.

When you pick a flower it’s bound to die

Why do we pick the flowers in our lives? The flowers, the small unnecessary beauty in our lives. We pick them from the Earth; we take them to study, to analyze. We must understand its place in our lives. Why this small beauty, this glimmer of peace has the strength to grown in our lives. What we don’t realize is once we pick the beauty, it already has started to die. It cannot grow any more; it has no roots left in your life. You’ve picked at it to understand it and in return you’ve lost it. We kill beauty with our search for knowledge. We must give it a purpose, a reason, a beginning. We try to bend it to work for us, not with us. Wild flowers grow where they will; planted flowers never get to grow freely. Eventually we will pick all the flowers, and what we are left with are the weeds. The ugly, vicious, terrifying weeds because who would ever want to learn why they grow, where they come from, how to start and stop their lives? When you pick a flower it’s bound to die, when you ignore a weed it’s bound to flourish.

things aren't always as they seem

“You’d ruin him”
Those words ran through her head. She always knew what kind of profile she gave off but never realized how wrong it truly was. Did people really think she couldn’t be hurt? Couldn’t fall in love? Couldn’t get her heart broken? It’s weird, is it true? No, it wasn’t. Hers was always the heart broken. She was the one to lose sleep because of the tears. She couldn’t be blamed for not believing in love, it’s a hard concept. She has tried but she has always been hurt and now she is being told that she is the one who hurts others, how so? She is the one to fall too fast too hard.

A picture is worth a thousand words

Lost to the hands of time. We lose things and we replace them. The once precious items forgotten with no remorse. A scarf, nothing special, millions made. It would perfectly match that one outfit you had. When you wore it you would just feel cozy. You wore on that walk home with that special boy, and you snuggled your face into it to hide your blush after he kissed you. You would wrap it around your head when at the park with your friends to make them laugh. It was with you when your favourite song came on your iPod and you danced down the street. It has eyeliner stains from when that boy broke your heart and it has hot chocolate stains from when he fixed it. It was nothing special to begin with, not a present, not home made. It was on sale, bought it with the change left over from lunch. Maybe you’ll get one in a new colour, it was easily replaceable. It was with you on the last day of winter break when he stopped you and held out a beautiful new black and white scarf. It remembers how you threw it into the air as you wrapped the new one around your neck. It watched as you pranced down the rest of the sidewalk tugging at it in pride. It patiently waited for you to return but only it will keep the memories you shared.

short story made into a poem

So what now?

His question was

Followed by

An awkward silence

His eyes longing

For those three

Words to be said

His breathing was

Shallow and soft

His whole world

Would pause until

I gave my answer

Once spoken it couldn’t be taken back

Once spoken everyone would know

Once spoken everything would change

I knew his reply

Yet fear still hit me.

Those three small words

Mean the world to him

Everyone else says it

Without a second thought,

So why is it so hard for me?

Wanna go out?

We return to our recess.

Create your own reality

“So what now?” his question was followed by an awkward silence. His eyes were longing for those three words to be said. His breathing was shallow and soft. His whole world would pause until I gave my answer. Once spoken it couldn’t be taken back. Once spoken everyone would know. Once spoken everything would change. I knew his reply yet fear still hit me. Those three small words mean the world to him. Everyone else says it without a second thought, so why is it so hard for me?

I finally say, “Wanna go out?” he quickly replies yes and we return to our recess.