Category Archives: Poem

Celebrate Women

I want to wish you a happy Women’s Day today.
This doesn’t mean I don’t admire you each and every day.
Doesn’t mean that you matter less on other days.
It doesn’t mean that your rights matter less the rest of the year.

It’s just that
I don’t say these things out loud often enough but I should.
You matter to me each and every day;
You make my world brighter with your presence,
You surprise me each time you help me realize who I am!
I want to wish you a happy Women’s Day because;
You’re a woman in my life and you make life worth living.

NOTE: I know #IWD2016 was yesterday but who says we can’t celebrate women on any other day?



I Missed You

I’ve missed you, I didn’t expect to.
I didn’t think it would be you, I never expected.
Didn’t want to, I suppose.
God knows it would have been easier if you were someone else, someone I expected.
I was pretending it was someone else, I was just getting the hang of it too.
Somehow I knew deep inside it was you.
Maybe I didn’t want to admit it, or didn’t want it to be you.
But you knew, didn’t you? That’s why you’re here.
Telling me you missed me.
I might as well admit, I missed you.
My dear loneliness, I missed you too.

The Promise

The choices you make are yours to make,
Wherever result it brings your way,
Whether it’s wedding bells or heartbreak,
Success abundant or total dismay,
To a monument in the sky or a sad eulogy,
I’ll be there with you, my dear friend,
Right till the very end.

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Crack on the wall

There is a wall, a massive thick wall.

There is a tiny crack on the wall.

What’s on the other side used to be bright and had qualities of a mirror.

It reflected light from sunbeams, giving light to all.

Then one day it broke and shattered and had to be put aside so it wouldn’t cut anyone else.

Sometimes sun beams enter through the crack and reflect off what is left, buried on the other side and made the crack on the wall glow a little.

There is this questionable want, to break down the wall and go back to the other aide,

To try and mend what is broken, to bring back what is lost or perhaps that was never found in the first place.

The urge is strong, the crack seems to be getting wider.

But then the sun shines it’s rays and reminds that the sunbeam’s light is far greater and brighter than the faint glow from what is left on the other side.

So you leave the crack alone for the time being and bask in the sun.

You don’t do anything to close up that crack though, you prefer to try and forget about it or use the sun to distract yourself for a while.

A part of you hopes that what’s on the other side will fix itself and break through the crack and come back to you.

You know that little spark of hope can consume you, but you also know that the sunbeams will keep you in check.

A story about moving on.

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“I cannot go to school today”
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more – that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue –
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure my left foot is broke –
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained.
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a silver in my thumb,
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is – what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is. . . Saturday?
G’bye I’m going out to play!”

Yes, I’m aware this poem is so very irrelevant, but is also very true…well at least when we were so young and schools were a disaster. not that I’m complaining in any way I always loved school in fact I miss it dearly…but of course we all must move on and start life from the next level. I guess Shel Silverstein was just feeling cocky when he wrote this poem, heck! He talks about a little girl who hate school too much she complains about all the bullshit she can think of just to skin school(poor dear). the little runt doesn’t realize its freaking Saturday(now that is an aspect I can relate to….oh! shit its Saturday WTF???) and instead of hanging with the girls and parting all night she goes out to play the boys!!!

“My hip hurts when I move my chin”

Oh come on Peggy Ann McKay get a life or at least learn how to lie like a pro, how the hell is you’re bloody hip connected to you’re bloody chin!!! and if who so ever she is whining to believes her, I have two words for you FACE PUNCH(or two) that’s what you deserve you lousy adult… maybe you do and little Peggy most probably fooled the pants off you all the time, how else would she thing to get away with this crap pot.

In a way I’m proud of Peggy’s insight and with… what other 12-year-old child in the 20th century (assuming that’s what and where she’s from) would be bold enough to go through with all this, if you know what I mean(Of course you don’t).

“My ‘pendix pains each time it rains”

Oh! Please… I’m sure Lady Gaga could come up with better stink. Wait… she has!!! Sorry Peggy you were out done by a weed sucking freak of nature recently, face it that’s how the world rolls,
“It doesn’t matter if you’re thirteen or sixty-five”
To quote Bowling For Soup – High School Never Ends (Improvised version) you in the original version it goes “doesn’t matter if you’re sixteen…” get it???


Never mind.


“There is a hole inside my ear”

Duh… you dumb child that leads straight to your brain, guess you’re just shrunk out of existence or fell out of that gasping hole in your very sick ear, this most probably explains why you forgot its Saturday. Some advice for your next birthday (or have you forgotten that date as well) ask for a calendar from who ever looks after you (probably the matron at the mental heath hospital). If you haven’t forgotten its Saturday Mr.Silverstien would have to do through all this trouble to write this (and I wouldn’t be going through all this either).

“My mouth is wet, my throat is dry”

Sigh… someone gives this kid some water or a soda… she doesn’t know the remedy for a dry throat, I guess she doesn’t want to know to know… cheeky little brat!!!

Oh well guess we all need excuses at some point, no matter how retarded and stupid they are…
G’bye I’m going out to play!

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