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Ode to my Pencil I love my pencil It will never bend Some days I think It's my best friend It's always sharp It's never flat I'll stab you with it If you challange that Don't touch my pencil! It's only mine It only writes In perfect lines Without my pencil I think I'd cry Oh no it snapped I'm going to die This one I put at the end of a book of poetry I was assigned to do. The general plot was that the book was the journal of a guy who starved to death on an island after his boat crashed there. At the end I turned the guy into me and these were his last thought. Reflecting At The End Life What is it? Is there a point? I know what it is I found it once I will know it forever Love Eternity together Not caring what others thought I knew it was true They thought us too young to know But we understood Their judjement meant nothing Days spent sitting on a rock in the creek Just talking and letting our feet dangle in the water Everything around us was beautiful It couldn1t compare to her There was no world There was only us All of happiness in a moment That moment became my life I may be young but I know more of it than they think Sunlight from above It comes through the trees It sparkles and dances on the water But it does not let me see and it gives me no warmth Copernicus proved that the Sun was the center of our solar system He was wrong. The center of my universe is Ashley And so in that moment that is life In that moment that is love The center of the universe is just above a rock sitting in my creek The creek I grew up loving How fitting that it should be the place where love has shone the brightest even now She is the light that brightens my life She is the warmth that keeps me alive I sit now on this island The sun shines on me and my feet dangle in the water There is nothing but rock I know that my life, that is only a momement, that is love, will end soon There is no use fighting it And still I can feel her, bright and warm No distance can stop what we feel for each other My journy in this life is over As I now lay my pen down I have only one thought The only thought there can be Of the moment that is my life, that is my eternal love I think of us sitting on the rock in the middle of my creek I hope you may all find your moment The Sculpter I give you legs that you may walk I give you snouts that you may stalk I give you ears that you may hear I give you lips that you may sneer I give you wings that you may soar I give you throats that you may roar I give you claws that you may fight I give you teeth that you may bight I give you a back that you may stand I give you feet that you may land I give you arms to ward off blows I give you heads that you may know I give you muscels that you may be strong I give you a tail that you may be long I give you eyes that you may see I give you shape that you may be But though I mold with pen and knife I can not give mere clay life The Mask We all wear the mask as part of our life It's not who we are but we do not care In its comfort we bask to hide our strife You can't pierce it with your questioning stare No human knows what another1s thinking No person can get inside of our head You can't tell if someone1s life is sinking There's always the mask until you are dead We want to come out from under our veil But it's far to late to show your true face From the president to a man in jail The mask covers all in the human race Do you want to know who I am inside? I know not myself, from all we do hide Untitled Here I am, dreaming a lavender dream of soft petals and delicate words. Webs of silken iron bind the fires of balance to me, but when they touch me only the whisps of smoke and memories will burn with them. Untitled With hands of silk I grip at Dawn, pulling it's warmth into my heart that it may always rise the next day. Shadows will always give way, for Love is always stronger, for those who dare to believe in it After Class Morning came and morning went And all my classes blew But now it's time top just kick back And spend some time with you No more tests or lecture halls Or any other doom Please stop by and say hello I'm right here in my room Untitled The past couple weeks I have looked up at the bright blue skies that used to share their warmth with me and seen with horror that they have turned their light away from me, becoming only a pale grey. But the harder I looked the more I realised that there was a viel between me and those skies, a sheet of smoke you might say. Every now and then a hole appears and and the brightness is there again. Now I concentrate on finding a way to remove the smoke. Though seeing the skies turn grey pains me, my one fear is that perhaps I look grey to the sky. Untitled Grey tears splash across a rainbow canvas as the heart sings of it's last pilgramage. The Last Poet Where does the poet look to when all the world is prose? What fate has the knight when the last princess is but memories? What of the romantic when all angels' wings are plastic? When heroism gives way to capatlism and love is as the wind where do my eyes turn? My heart yerns for the times of Romance, this world is not for me.