Modesty

Dorothy,

What carries you?

Why is innocence sewn into the an cores of your actions?

When I talk to you I feel as if I’m the scare crow without a brain

When I’m afraid like cowardly lion and you touch my hand with quiet strength

Or a crying tin man without a heart, and you come and fill up the missing part.

I feel like I have a lot for you Dorothy

Your modest in dress, lovely in look,

if amazing was an attribute, you would be the dictionaries definition of it.

You don't even mean to but you melt evil with your purity

Your love is simple, you simply love everyone

You are truly a rose among thorns

If girls like you were a dime a dozen, this worlds crime would become clutsy

trip over its shoe layses land on its face, and refuse to ever get up again.

When the world is in fear worring about lions tigers and bears oh my!

You notice the flower growing from the mountain side

You take those large faces of persuasion and cripple them down, until they reveal themselves as small men, with narrow views.

When the ugly bat monkeys take you from your friends,

They search until they find you again, because they cant imagine one day without your smile.

And when the day comes for you to return home, you have only to simply to click your heels together, and concords of angels with take you home to the Spirit in the Sky, who you know so very well.

Mugger

Mugger

A wisp of air taken

Stolen from my throat as I step out the door

Who is the theif who takes my precious air?

What does he need it for?

I woulnt mind so much if he would simply ask

But he doesn't

His cold hands wait outside my front exit so he can steele it, when Im least expecting it.

I walk out saying my goodbyes, and here he is

Usually it takes me by surprise, but sometimes I rememeber the mugger, outside my door

I hesitate…. Not wanting to greet him.

confused

Confused

The cold air blows wind  linebackers blitsing me like a quarterback with a horrible defence,

In a wave pattern leaves, as they lift and blow.

The wet liquid soaks through my leather souled shoes

Leaving my toes blue, the blood failing in the attempt to circulate the little appendages at the end of my feet.

My soul, torn.

Between perfection and reality,

A man at the edge of a cliff clutching with one hand to hope with cracking fingnails trying to keep him from falling, the other hand holding on to his heavy heart, which the weight of it only increasing as the time passes

I’m not sure what to do now?

What would you do?

I tried buring my heart, but the frozen soil was not strong enough to contain it.

I tried ignoring my heart, but it’s cries bring me back to its sick bedside, no matter how hard I try to stay away.

I tried… and failed

And now look at where I find myself,

Stuck between the walls of reality starring at the floor of oblivion with hope shinning brightly just out of my reach as to force me to fight on.

My life like a electrocardiograph, at the bed side of a patient

Up and down up and down up and down

Which I suppose leaves me grateful, because when it flat lines it means I’m dead

People

People

Walking about feeling the air around each other

Energy flowing people going seeds sewing

Smiles frowns, make up girls, sweat wearin ladies with curls

Jocks, nerds, skinny jean hipsters

Each trying to act as if they are busy,

Their eyes escaping to their phone when ever a awkward situation presents itself

All staring at their feet inside, wondering why

With their dreams big as the sky,

Some of them to shy to show their wings and fly

All looking for a piece of the life pie

And then there is me, a part of it all.

Just one wave in the ocean of students

Writing what I see as I sit here in this well weathered chair

Evdence of all the past people sitting here stained all over

Wondering what they might have done if they were in my situtioin

You see, because im just like all of them

I am writng to avoid going and talking to the beautiful girl down the hall studying by herself.

Watching two old people flirting, making it look easy,

With his white hair, and a stack of papers that has just been twisted and transformed into a sword,

Snd she reviels her ability to kick surprisingly high,

As his sword retreats back into its stack of papers, they part, vocal cords exasperating with delight.

It is quite a sight here in the LA building of UVU

Have you ever noticed what people do, when they believe no one is watching

People

Walking