Look around.
Look around
at Our world today.
Tell me what you see:
Do you see peace
And freedom,
from sea to shining sea?

Open your ears.
Open your ears
And hearts
To those in need,
Whether in our country,
Your country,
Or countries far away.
After all,
everyone says they believe
We're all equal.
Then how come
we're treated
so Differently?
 

Grades.
Those letters, percents, and comments
I check constantly, hoping
For the perfect A+'s, 100%'s, and
Words of praise from
All my teachers.
Every assignment, every
Quiz and test
Counts.
What will colleges think?
What will my parents say?
What of the embarrassment
And guilt
If I get a 
Bad grade?
Report cards mostly convey
How students perform on tests,
With some thought of 
Homework, behavior, and
Class participation, of course.
The stress begins to build
As the testing time comes near,
As this one document
Could realize my greatest fear;
As if I forget just one thing
My grade will fall, and then my tears.
Students should learn and truly know
What teachers teach in class,
However I'm not sure that tests
Best represent everyone's abilities;
Some people may do best under stress,
But others do much worse.

I.

Where the rivers trace
Her future, her life,
And the jungle trees
Block the sun from view,
A girl dances away her sorrows
As she embraces the world
Within her view.
She's all alone,
The last of a line
Beaten down by rain,
Chased by kings
And queens
Of the animal kingdom,
Who she evaded 
By some miracle,
Using ancient knowledge
Of the land 
To find her way safely.



II.

The rain sprayed down in droplets
Falling a second time,
Thrown off of trees
As they fell to the ground.
Their glimmering crowns of green
Smashed birds' nests, and plunged
Into those rivers of life,
Stopping the flow of water
Much missed
By where it most needed to go.
Fleeing madly, unable
To face these strange beasts
Of metal she had never seen,
The girl ran from her home,
The animals of the jungle,

When cuckoos laugh and somersault 
Perhaps I'll love again.
However it takes more than birds
To get a heart to mend.

Retreating footsteps have, since then,
Still echoed in my mind;
The irony of what you did
Still hides, haunts, and reminds.

When flowers grow after they die
And bloom in winter snow,
Perhaps my ears will cease to block
The words which later hurt me so.

Propelling anger as a tool, you
Drove me against myself;
I was too scared to trust what I knew,
While ne'er guessing you were something else.

The day you said goodbye, you left
That terrible note, a shattered heart
Cut into pieces by your words which
First took my trust as the hors d'oeuvre.

Next, you stole my mind, my thoughts,
And stirred them in your cauldron 'till
They bubbled, and muddled, and became clear,
Then you had no arguments to fear.

Suddenly, I'm awake.
I'm not 
where I fell asleep.
I'm not
in my bed, 
in my room,
at home.
I'm at a place
I never thought 
I'd see again,
Or want
to see again.
Yet 
here I was, am.
The rain pours down,
half-sleet, half-water,
pitter-pattering on the roof
of my old school.
It's not frozen enough
to do any real damage,
Yet
it feels colder 
and sharper
than their words had,
Slicing
through my confidence
and Hope
and heart—
so I ran.
I ran to the stairs
and sat,
nearly oblivious 
To the puddle 
I was sitting in,
to the kid staring
At me
through the window of a
passing car.
I now walk 
to that girl
Sitting on the stairs,
the girl I used to be,
The girl I gave up on.
I know what happens next,
And I don't want to watch.
Yet I do.
My eyes are frozen

If only golden
Rays of sun
Were tangible.
Alas, they weren't.
She watched them slip
Through her fingers
As she remembered
Empty wallets,
Empty stomachs,
Empty hearts of those
Who walked by,
Not caring to 
Even listen
To the whispered wishes
Of those who could not
Hold on
Much longer.
If only promises 
Were tangible,
Unlike the money
And food
She dreamed of.
If only dreams
Were promises,
Promises that would
Surely come true,
Promises as real
And easy to grasp
And hold tight
As the rare paper bill
Or unlucky penny
Found in the streets.
If only words
Held their meanings,
Clinging to them
So children living on the streets
Would not have 
To cling onto
Their little siblings,
Their lives.
If only the words
Which need to be
Heard the most
Would not be blocked

How radiantly a summer sunset
Shines last rays over the land,
Pinks merging with golden orange,
And yellows soft and bold.

Reflecting in sparkling streams
Igniting the ocean,
Fiery hues, streaks of soothing blue,
A painting too lovely to be hidden, contained;

The birds sing sweetly, serenading evening,
My eyes hold onto the final glimpse
Of the beauty Nature so selflessly shares
With us, and all her wilderness.

Last lingering rays slowly tuck creatures in,
Nimbly unfolding the blanket of Night
Over the world, scattering stars as small lights
To reassure everyone they are safe and all is right.

Only I lay awake, still seeing the sunset
So brilliant and beautiful in my mind,
I don't want to sleep and lose this masterpiece,
But I eventually slip into a dreamworld of a kind.

And so night passes after every summer sunset,

How fickle summer sun can be
Abandoning skies for clouds,
Or
Spreading scorching rays
All o'er the mountains, sea, and ground.
While
Humans try to make their own
Light, and histories of them alone,
They cannot control when the sun shines
Or storms drive them all home.
So
If this is true, factional, real,
How can we stay amiss?
We live on in our own bubbles,
Still never heeding this:
The summer's sun does not so care
To follow our wishes and wills,
Yet
We can still enjoy summer
If we follow where Nature goes.
 
 

How can so much depend
On a single
Drop
Of 
Rain?

When it finally falls
Down from the sky
To 
The
Ground?

A leaf may bend, an
Ant might fall, all
Without
Any Sound,
Yet

When I ponder why,
My thoughts are washed
Away by these
Drops
Of Rain.