Poems

There is a voice inside of you
That whispers all day long,
"I feel that this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong."
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend
Or wise man can decide
What's right for you-just listen to
The voice that speaks inside.

"SO...
Catch!" calls the Once-ler.
He lets something fall.
"It's a Truffula Seed.
It's the last one of all!
You're in charge of the last of the Truffula Seeds.
And Truffula Trees are what everyone needs.
Plant a new Truffula. Treat it with care.
Give it clean water. And feed it fresh air.
Grow a forest. Protect if from axes that hack.
Then the Lorax
and all of his friends
may come back."

Beauty, beauty, beauty surrounds you like moths to a flame.
But unlike its heat you do not burn to the touch.

Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous you are like a rose fragrant filled and blooming.
But unlike its thorns you do not prick.

Joyful, joyful, joyful your smiles are like the rays of the sun.
But unlike its distance you are close to me.

Lightly, lightly, lightly our mortality melts like snow on timbers.
But unlike its end I live forever with you finding life as in Heaven.

Blood running out but no hole is found.
I have a quiver in my heart since she left town.

Open to new experiences and new things to do.
She left in a hurry and didn't leave me a clue.

She said that she loved me and we'd never part.
What a fool I am for giving her a head start.

You see, I trusted and adored her I said and I did.
Damn it to hell, she met another guy named Sid.

Apparently I am a bore, as exciting as mud.
Sid has a six pack, of course pecs, and is a stud.

I'd get her back, if I could, but oh how I hurt.
So, now I sit in my blood staring at the dirt.

The blood is still running out but no hole can be found.
I have a quiver in my heart since she left town.