I write despairingly,
My dismantled body staring at me,
Boy I should've read the instructions,
Before assembling this shed.

Pick up the move and room it,
No I think I'd rather zoom it,
Here he goes again,
Over thinking brain cells shrinking,
Till he can't s ell ca se  e's mis ing the le  ers.
I'll store 'em down here so they don't get lost,
puh stt puh stt puh stt
Sounds like a drum!

I try to describe the way she moves,
Though I fail to write a proper example.
So I move to painting,

Yet I just can't capture all her stunning stride,
In acrylics and canvas.

So I'll try to see if I can ever write it out again.

I got a chicken sandwich,
I was hungry as a witch,
But how I was disappointed,
It was so underdone I was plucking feathers out it!

Scrapbook Poem #140

'Maybe it was the journey all along.'
I laugh,
Didn't seem like it at first,
But I guess the treasure was the friends we made along the way.

I have but two eyes,
And ten fingers,
To write words,
And hold pens.

But just enough,
To write poems,
And send them into the world.

Well folks,
That was the curtain call,
I guess it's time to call it a wrap.

youre my forever
ill never give you up
im proud of you
i know the battles you fight

Would you believe me,
If I said I was from the future,
That I came back in time,
Because my world ended?

I didn't cherish my little earth,
Because I figured it could never leave me,
And then it did.