I see the stairs ahead of me
that seem to take me to the sun
but I cannot reach it… it always is too far
I hope to reach it someday
but I did not reach it monday
and too many have gone
to justify going on
but I know inside
that I will find no joy
if I turn back now
because he can’t get there alone
Why
A marathon of answers
Unsure
If
They correspond
With the
Hasty, useless
Questions
Posed
By those
Set on the confusion
Of the ones
Forced
To ponder
Fatigue
Sweeps thoughts away
In a murky
Flood
Nothing but debris
And pollution
Dreading
The continuation
Of
Carrying lead
Hidden
In the faux smiles
Of the creators
The deliberators
No!
You yell
I shake my head
I shriek yes
In silence
I know
That yes
Is right
Yet
I jeep yelling yes back
Each time
A grain of sand
Against a mighty rock
Silence persists
Turn around
Smile
Unleashing wind
Carrying a million
Grains of sand
Eroding a mighty rock
Into oblivion
Red for anger
Orange for hate
Yellow for sickness
Green for envy
Blue for sadness
Indigo for loneliness
Violet for bruises
Or
Red for love
Orange for passion
Yellow for happiness
Green for rebirth
Blue for peace
Indigo for beauty
Violet for bravery
You choose
Heart room
Cue the lights
The walls bear pictures
Starring you
Exhibit closed
Locked thick doors
A rusty old key
Never used
Find an open vent
Slither in
Tear the frames down
Glass will shatter
Leaving no one unscathed
Ask for a key
Trade in your heart
To admire masterpieces
No boundaries
In the heart room
Inhale
Go under
Cool water
Swirls lethargically
Hair buoyant
Reaching to the surface
No breathing
No seeing
White on white
Gray on gray
Blue on blue
Serenity
Gentle energy
Break the surface
Inhale
It’s funny
How we blow out candles
One for each year
Previously lived
As if to blow away
The memories
Cast them aside
In smoke
To cheer for
Another year
Wasted
To put out
The life fire
One more candle
Extinguished
I am the wind
Suspending a million seedlings
Floating through the air
Like snowflakes
I tell them where to go
When to leave
But they keep coming
Back to me
I am the reason
That they know to float
To pack their things
And leave
Without me
They would stay on their flowers
Shriveling
Oh how sweet
But I keep moving
Holding them
As I go
Knowing that I need them
Though I may tire
My throat grows sore
Through endless hours
I fly with them
Those tiresome
Dependent
Helpless
Seeds
The end of the month is coming near It is almost, almost, here NaPoWriMo is coming to an end It is like diverging with a faithful friend So say goodbye, give one last wave For all your secrets to it you gave In the form of poems, emotionally true Showing sadness or the story of a girl named Sue But is there a need to worry? Nay! Even as April turns into May For next year, your teacher might say: "I want you to write a poem every day" And most might groan, but those Who truly understand the value of poetry Will secretly shout "Hurray!" Happy NaPoWriMo, great job to everyone who wrote a poem every day!