Writing

The world goes on.

Continuing its orbit around the sun.

While we live in our miniature universe. 

With our miniature problems. 

When I turned five, I wished for new Barbies.

So I could play pretend on the playground.

When I turned eight, I wished for new slime.

So I could make big slime bubbles with my friends.

Poetry is my way of expression.

I have recently discovered this.

A way to say my thoughts with intention.

It makes my mind empty but full of bliss.

Poetry is my new obsession.

my day started sad.

nothing could make it better,

but then I saw you

Last year, I tried to tune my guitar,

but when I played, it came out wrong.

The notes were wobbly, not straight.

                 I guess I'll try again later

I wish I were the sun.

Bright and happy.

Beams of light.

The thing people look forward to seeing.

I wish I were the moon.

Dark and mysterious.

Shapeshifting silver disc.