A Pennies Worth

I dropped pennies down an endless well
They began singing a tuneless song
As they hit the bottom clink clink clink
So lovely yet so wrong

The well doesn’t have an ending
No place for a penny to play
It’s soulful sullen instrument
So what’s the melody I hear ringing today?

Maybe it’s just kind courtesy
All in well because I paid
With my tinny tiny copper coins
For me the well, it sang

And what a morose song it played
With words of loss and fear
It told a tragic tale
A tragic tale I swear was told though no words built homes my ears

The tune made my feet sink into the mud
At the bottom of the bottomless well
The hairs on my head brushed the roof of the sky
‘Til the song turned into a yell

Then rather than fall, I floated up
From the pit that leaves this earth
This was years ago but still I remember how it felt
To have a penny, a song, a peaceful mind all at the same worth

Hysteria

Madness
This is what this feels like
Feels like
Flying
Falling
Dying
Laughing
I die laughing
So much my ribs shatter
But they never did much for me anyway
Just breathed
I try to just breathe
But my ribs are broken
And all that’s left is madness

~moving on

Insanity is the definition
Of repeating the same thing
And expecting a different outcome
You should know
That I am not insane.
I will not wait, hoping,
For a different outcome
I have been spurned enough times
By insanity
To know that I will cut that bridge
And burn it to ashes
Before I ever let you hurt me again.

~night time routine

My hands, they hold my body
Mold my skin like clay
There’s no one else to hold me
My hands say it’s okay

If these fingers are my mountains
Then my tears create the sea
But my hands have been the pitchers
That keep them safe for me

Dirt encrusted nail beds
Secrets between each vein
My hands hold all my heartache
My makeshift lidocaine

Ten fingers clot the bleeding
Two elbows squeezing tight
One cut against a thousand
My hands say we’re alright

Knuckles slot my rib cage
Knees against my chest
My soul in mottled digits
Sanity undressed

A Few Things About Me

I am sort of funny
I want a bunny
I love my brother
I love my mother

I love cats
But, I don’t like rats
I have striped socks
And, I love shiny rocks

I am also an artist
And, most likely the smartest
I love to sketch
And, sometimes I stretch

I love to design
I am also nine
I’m in fourth grade
And, I like to hair braid

I love to drink soda
But, I don’t like Yoda
My favorite color is pink
But, don’t tell anyone – wink wink

Ode to APD Officer Jorge Pastore AP 9097 “Tac66” End of Watch 11/11/2023

Ode to Jorge Pastore AP 9097 “Tac66”
End of Watch 11/11/2023

Someone calls for help, a hero stands tall,
Jorge Pastore, he answered the call.
A firefighter paramedic, brave and true,
To the sound of sirens, he rushed on through.
From Parkland to Marjory Stoneman Douglas High,

He faced the darkness, he heard the cry.
A guardian of the injured, heeding his call.
In the line of duty, he gave his all,
Then a new path he’s seen, an officer he became,

To serve and protect, to honor their names.
With courage and valor, he wore the badge no matter the day,
In the face of danger, he stood his ground,
A hero for some, forever a “dad” he will be renowned

His legacy shall live on, through the lives he touched
He shall be remembered as a hero, who has been admired so very much
With a sacrifice never forgotten, and a spirit always strong
In the hearts of many, you will forever belong

With an outpouring of tears, we must say farewell to a pioneer
“Rest easy, Officer Pastore, we’ll take it from here”

Broken Hearts

When a boy comes up, says he likes you and also flirt, You know you like him but the very next day he finds a other girl to flirt on, so the cycle continues I got fool heartbreak my heart ceased to deceased. Broken hearts shouldn’t be broken if found by the right person he moved away still heartbroken I found a other person he became my best friend. Broken hearts are just other parts of life you just live with. Move on

Winter

I wake up

Little flakes of snow swirling by my window
Orange and cinnamon wafts from downstairs
Vacation in the snow!
Eager to go outside, I lace my boots

Snowy winds blast my face as I step outside
Nests of small white birds litter the trees
Overcast skies drop snow in light flakes
Withering leaves crunch underfoot

Ash sits in the warm fireplace from burned logs
Noisy chirps of birds can still be heard through the house
December I will always remember

Walking through the hallways on creaky wooden floors
Icicles drip off the trees
No sounds besides the birds and wind in the trees
Time seems still
Each inch of snow that falls sends a smile to my face
Rapidly, the snow piles up

Me estoy aburriendo

Me estoy aburriendo
Estoy muy aburrido en clase de lengua
Quiero ir a casa
Estoy haciendo un poema para no aburrirme

Estoy aburrido
No sé qué hacer
Escribir o leer
Escribir este poema es lo que voy hacer

Estoy aburrido
No se que hacer
No se si escribir contento
O escribir enfadado

En la clase de lengua no se hace nada interesante
Excepto escribir este poema es estar nervioso
Si lo lee la profesora se va a enfadar
Pero yo la voy a rechazar

Estoy aburrido
No se que hacer
Beber agua
O tocarme los pies

No puedo ver los bucaneros
O jugar al fútbol
Escribir este poema es lo que voy hacer
La única cosa interesante

Estoy aburrido
Sé que hacer
Escribir el poema
Y estar contento que ya acabé