You were born a flower child with a hippie heart I watched you come into this world – an entrance set apart You were a little spider monkey; Always your own kind of girl You were bound and determined to control your little world . You’re a true flower child and that sets you apart You saved animals big and small It didn’t matter because they also had a heart You climbed up there and jumped over here A daring little girl with very little fear. Keep dancing through life to you

I wanted to write a poem to give you some things to ponder next time you're alone. Why do some of the worlds strongest guys turn out to be weak minded men? How come we turn the lights on for two seconds just to turn them right off again? Why do people use their blinkers at three in the morning? How come people strike a match with the book cover open, despite all the warnings? Why do people wait till the last minute to tell you where to turn off? How come when we're alone we

It isn’t fair, It isn’t fair, it isn’t fair one bit. Did I say it isn’t fair? In fact, it’s complete bullshit. How do you go from one extreme to the other in just a couple of days? It’s hard to wrap my head around because all of the details are a haze. I want to understand what happened. I want to know why you’re gone. Was it simply that it was just your time? Or did something go terribly wrong? I feel like I need to know what the hidden truths really are. It won’t make anyt

If I told you that I’d loved you would it matter even a little bit? What if I said that you consume my mind like a drug that I can’t quit? I don’t know how to stop from waking up to the thought of you I just can’t seem to make myself think that I never knew The way that I’m reacting is seemingly unjustified Why life happened as it did is a question left for time Things will begin to revert to the way that they once were The past will fade into the past and time into a blur T

The way that the tides of time always turn makes me wonder if I'll ever learn Just when I thought we could be together I forgot to account for stormy weather I'll ride the wave enjoying the high; until, it crashes, & subsides I'm caught in life's giant whirlpool; splashing and thrashing like a drowning fool I'm waiting for the current to decide if it will take me under It cries out in the wind just before a crack of thunder The hourglass is running out I'm tired

Minimal seems like a good way to describe the words that we share I don't doubt that you could slice through the tension in the air Saying only what is necessary to get us through the day Daggers shooting from your skull when I turn to look your way Sadness dances around the surface of your eyes Hopelessness and despair seem to roll off of your sighs Uneasiness crackles in your voice. Did you kiss me because it was habit? Or, was that your own choice? Disappointment fills ev

Blow, blow, blow your nose to get the boogers out. If they’re thick and goopy they’re stuck - without a doubt. They make your nose all stuffy and you can barely breathe. They even stayed in their place after my fourth sneeze. What do you think that we should do? Don’t eat your Boogers, they’re not yummy! They belong in your nose - not in your tummy! Do you know what they’re made of? Or how they got in there? If you’re sticking your finger into your nose, you just better b

In case there is no cake in heaven, I will bring a piece to you. And in case there is no fun fruit punch, I will bring some of that too. I wonder, do the angels celebrate on your day of birth? Or do they only celebrate the day you left this earth? There isn’t any celebrating on this side of the clouds. Everything is very different now that you are not around. The days are passing quickly and we haven’t realized, that the year is coming to an end before our very eyes.

We may not know each other like we once did. But you were one of my best friends when we were kids I remember sliding down the front stairs because they were long and twirly. I hated it when I had to go home because it was always too early. Over indulging on the bubblegum that you brought with you from the West Coast. The freedom that you had to do whatever you loved most. Like painting your bedroom walls black with zebra stripes. It is truly awesome that your parents didn’tg

I’ve entered into a competition called The People’s Artist I thought this would be the perfect way to get my creative path started Staying in the rounds is the challenge now Asking people who don’t know me, to kindly vote me down I’m holding in my place appeased with it for now But I’ve got some more hard hitters hidden in my crown I’m playing this out as far as I am able, And when the time is right, all of my aces will quietly adorn the table