Untitled (draft)

I'm chasing after a falling star,
One that will never be mine.
No matter how fast I run
Or what route I take,
That shining star will always be out of my reach.
That star belongs to another dreamer
Of whom I wish I knew
So I may learn their secrets and make that star mine.
I do know, one thing I've learned is that patience is the key,
And maybe one day that falling star will come right back to me.
I hope it happens, but all in due time,
That one day soon,
That falling star will be mine,
all mine.

Contentness

A rippling ocean of white
Prevents me from seeing what's beneath
I'm scared. What will happen next?
Am I going to fall?
Will my ears pop from the rate at which I dive?
Finally I see a glimmering light of gold.
A sparkle catches my eye
What is it?
The closer I get the clearer it becomes
They are lights
Lights of hope
Lights of happiness and excitement.
Lights of security.
Security of the closeness to the ground.
Which will prevent me from falling faster than I should.
The lights which fill me with excitement
Fill me with giddiness and puts a smile on my face.
I'm home.

Fire Guy

Fire guy, fire guy...why do you have an obsession with roasted babies?
How does it make you feel when the flames erupt?
Like a kid in a candy store?
Like a geek in a robot convention?
You act like it's nothing to hear their screams.
And then...
Then you don't even try to defend yourself.
You go about your day as if nothing has happened.
Just like that.
One by one you throw them in with a satanic smile across your face,
As the plastic on their backs melt in the flames.
The children's eyes fill with tears
For you, this is good news.
The little California girls come near you, holding that piece of plastic they called "Little Suzy."
It drives you crazy to hear that batter operated cry over and over.
And, oh yeah...
Were you pretending to stare off into the distance to avoid that crazed glare that it gave you?
It's okay, I'm not a fan of those plastic dolls either.

What is Life?

Leaves are rustling in the breeze.
A warm seventy-five degrees outside.
She lies on the ground and closes her eyes,
the fresh grass running through her toes.
What is life on a spring day?
All of wilderness is coming out from hibernation,
bringing life back to the trees.
Bright red, yellow, and purple hues decorate gardens.
Then dark storm clouds roll in and wipe them all away
Only to start the next day from scratch
Bees start to collect their pollen and nectar to make their hives and honey.
Then a construction vehicle knocks down the tree where the hive has been anchored.
Children swinging in the parks,
bringing the noises of summer back to the streets.
And then one falls off and scrapes their knee.
Farmer's are starting to harvest their crops;
When a flood wipes out the fields.
Geese are showing their goslings how to swim in the lakes which provide them a cool place out of the sun.
The smell of fresh linens hanging  out in the sun to dry,
Mothers open the windows to air out the house.
Then the pollen covers everything with a thing yellow layer.
"Hey watch out!"
The volleyball hit her head and rustled her back to consciousness;
She looks around and chuckles to herself,
this is life.

Nature is Beauty

Walking through the trees,
The view begins to change.
The snow sparkles like crystals,
The sun peaks through the clouds.
Birds scavenge for food on the ground
Startled, fly up into the trees when my foot breaks through the crisp ice.
The trails are non-existent with the snow covering them like a white blanket.
The only thing I can do is follow the footprints
But, like soldiers on a mission to confuse the enemy,
The footprints scatter in different directions
She sees a group of deer in the distance.
Breaking free she snaps her leash as she bolts towards the deer
Like a leopard after its prey
The deer scatter in every direction as she closes in, nipping at their hooves.
They run too fast for her to keep up.
Off into the trees their fur acts as camouflage setting them free.
Like a defeated soldier my dog hangs her head in shame.
The enemy had gotten away.
We continued onward, up the snow covered hill.
Nature is beauty.

Music to Life

Within each note there lies a different sound
Tap...tap-tap
we drum our fingertips
we stomp the heels of our shoes
The rhythm of the song is an addiction,
Something we need to stay alive.
To heal our pain,
Giving us answers to that one question,
Why?
Listen.
Listen to the melodious lyrics that make up a song
That started as an idea, put on--to paper,
And in--to our hearts and souls.

Called It Summer

Greens, yellows, reds, oranges, and blues are the colors I saw as I caught a glimpse of the top of the hill; they were as innocent as the breeze that had blown through the leaves of the tall oak trees in the meadow. With flowing fields of green and yellow; the tall grass and hay tickled my legs as I ran barefoot through the fields of golden soybeans. Orange and black butterlies fluttered out of the tall green grass as my childish footsteps had tried to run upon them without making any noise; their colors soared to the highest-red, yellow, and blue wildflowers to rest away from my reach until it was safe for them to return to the tall grass; 
this time of year was my favorite,
this time of year I called it summer.