Butterfly

I am a butterfly. I dream of flying away to an unknown land and living as much and as fast as the wind allows me. There's different facets to my colors, different personalities, different qualities. My colors have changed over time, however not to say i'm bipolar, i laugh and sigh to myself. I am the wind. I am the changeless thing, and the finite which time does morph.

I am a pencil,
I can glide over paper and create a myriad of things
music, writing, poetry, truth, fiction,
It's all there between me and this empty white sheet
I work better when my head is sharp,
press me too hard and I break
Personally I do nothing,
I just let The Artist work through me.

A Musical Personality

My personality is like music, classic tunes with a new beat.  It can be loud and rambunctious at times yet gentle and almost silent at others.  I never know what the song written next will be about, or how it will sound all I know is the beat.  The beat that makes the song is the beat that rules my emotions, my personality.  With every new album new songs are made, every song has a unique sound and feel, just like everyday my personality will shift through the spectrum.  If you tune in one day to my music, I promise you’ll be pleased.

Grandfather

This man has a unique smell that could punish any nose. The skin of the grandfather is scaly like a snake. The grandfather has hair coming out of his ears that feels like a sheep’s back.

Eyes

Two oval-shaped footballs with a color-filled circle in teh middle.  Some are large and dreamy, while some are small and weird, but not always these two combinations together.

Sand & Fire

Breakable object but inpenetrable to liquids,
clear see-through material,
it can be morfed into anything it fits in,
stronger than plastic, it makes it seem menial,
burn sand under fire and compose a new invention,
material that all love and holds a shiny complexion.

I am like a peace sign

I am like a pease sign so quiet and at peace,
wanting everyone to love and live in harmony,
no need for anyone to have greed, no need for war or broken knees,
so I will not become a soldier to make others bleed, like killing a sons' father before his son's capable to see,
that's cruel, cold hearted and definitely not me,
even though we are different we remain as people,
one with nature,
we have to nurture one another but that's something they never teach you,
only hatred.
Politics and nations fighting throwing each other crap,
seeing who's more popular between Republicans or Democrats,
side-tracting you to get the new cars or retro hats,
I see through them, organs and bones, and they all full of crap,
what society really needs to do is just help one another,
show appreciation to everyone, even if they aren't your sister or brother

Eyes

The glossy, deep-sea blue eyes refused to welcome the new sunny morning as its striking yet beautiful rays attempted to break past the rejecting barrier of eyelids, still heavy and pale from the restless night. Finally giving in to the overwhelming demands of the awaiting dawn, the big, black pools bathed in creseant shaped eyes welcomed its warmth with a smile, and it was almost as if the sun was smiling right back.

Where is the awareness?

What is going on with our generation?
Children lacking common sense and communication,
The sad truth is that most of our population,
Is refusing to act like a unified nation.

From these cellular devices and the media,
You'd think we'd all have more of an idea,
About the events in Egypt and Libya,
Or where to locate Turkey or North Korea.

Kids these days are trapped in wonderland,
They don't even try to understand,
How we can come together hand in hand,
And build a safer and better land.

What we have to do is open up their ears,
And give them a message that everyone hears,
About our plan to take away the world's fears,
In hopes of helping the Earth see better years.

The shell at the beach sat under the dry, hot sand. It's sharp edges cuttinh whoever may step on it just like a knife. Leaving a little wet, red drop of blood on it. Waiting to get picked up and kept in a collection of beautiful, pricesless shells. Or sucked back out into the deep, beautiful sea. But sadly it just sinks deeper in the beach sand as if it was quick sand.

Sky Eyes

They were a pure light turquoise blue. If you looked closely into them, you could see clouds, the thin wispy cirrus kind if he was just talking with you and cumulus clouds if he was occupied with something. They were filled with such warmth and light like you'd find in a daytime sky anywhere where it wasn't raining. They drew you in and held you, almost like they were hugging the very sight of you. You could just feel yourself just being drawn into the sky that was hiding behind them, but you almost didn't care, because you knew it was a place where there was no ground, no chilly air to freeze you, and soft winds always blowing.
But woe to the person who made him mad, for when he grew furious, the turquoise gave way to stormy grey clouds, the kind underneath a thunderstorm, and lightning would flash as he bore down on you. Those eyes would be the last thing you'd ever see.

The Child

Two small hollow dimples had accompanied the delicate pink watermelon slice shaped smile that had inhabited the little girl's heart shaped face. Freckles that had been sprinkled in batches on top of her peach toned skin, causing it to look like stars on a clear summer night. Tiny white, milky teeth danced in her mouth, sticking in all sorts of directions, and when she laughed her small baby nose crinkled, hiding the freckles on the bridge of her nose under her wrinkles. Her intense spearmint green eyes, pierced through anyone who looked in them for too long, and was surrounded by a thin muddy brown ring on the border that seperated the sharp mint green with the paper white of her eye. Her lashes strawberry blonde, like her long straight hair that had reached down to her waist.

The Black Horse

The sound of the hooves hammering on the ground. His main blowing through the wind like a torn flag in war. As he majestically gallops and bucks, the dirt flying behind the horse. The horse’s shiny black hair glimmers in the sun. The smell of sweet granola reeks from the horse as he sweats.

House

A house that lies beyond a creepy fence that protects it, rumored to be hunted. This house is covered with dead branches scratching the broken glass that hang outs the windows making creepy scratching noises; with the lighting a shadowy figure seems to be seen wondering about inside.

I am like a blank piece of paper

I am like a blank piece of paper
ready to be filled,
with words of others
my life story can be set

I could be thrown away and discarded
but my words will always remain,
I can also be shared or
I can be your secret.

I am like a blank piece of paper
ready to be filled,
with truth and lies
but only the writer decides.

I can be illegal in some places
I can sometimes be smart and sometimes be silly.
I can get wrinkled or I can stay young.
I can raise spirit or I can give warnings

I can give you butterflies
or I can give you the giggles,
I am like a blank piece of paper.

I am your mug!

I am your favorite mug.
I try to energize you every morning with my sunny personality, and some Sunny D.
And at night, I will stay up with you for as long as you need me, with your favorite hazelnut coffee.
In times of homesickness, I can give you your Grandmother's special hot chocolate, and reassure you that everything will be fine.
I can help you overcome, and endure.
I can give you energy, or calm you down.
To the very content of your soul, and to your being, I may connect, may it be with a good memory, an adrenaline rush, a calming talk, or just a comfortable everyday cycle of hanging out.
Sometimes, under all of the pressure of the day, I might crack, but I can guarantee you that I will always make sure to do my job to the best of my ability, because after all, I am, your favorite mug.

Caterpillar

An energetic, tiny insect exploring the green towers it calls home. The young creature is soft to the touch, like the fur of a dog; but it constantly sheds it's smooth skin, like a snake does when it grows. It knows it hasn't fully matured, but when it does, the small bug will advance into another life as a butterfly. That's when the caterpillar will enter its new world, without a fear of falling.

Treehouse

I am a treehouse. You have to climb up to my level if you want to see how I view the world.
I can see everything from the far past to the far future and to the corners of my horizons, but I can't see what's directly below me. I sway in the wind but stay strong. I love being in my tree.
But I want you to come and visit me, climb up to me, for I am lonely. And if you won't come up to me, I can come down to you... but I will retreat back to my sanctuary in my tree just as fast.
When I let you in, it may be small and cramped (don't mind my muse- she lives here), but it's cozy and warm, and I'll let you stay as long as you like. But if you wish to leave, I will kick you out and never let you back in, not looking if you safely climb down or fall into oblivion. For as much as I like company, I love being solitary just as much.

Teapot

I am a teapot. I'm not quite sure of my purpose in life, other than to decorate this Earth as just another piece of display. I am often seen as a simple item with practically no function but to look pretty. At times I am filled up with a warm and gentle love, but in the end it's meant to be poured into the cups of others. I never keep any for myself; I merely exist to give.

Book

I'm like a book, you can judge me by the cover or open me up and get to know a little more. You might be using me for the knoledge I hold, or because you like what you see on the outside. Sometimes it feels like you're not even listening. Sometimes before I'm even finished you throw me aside and move on to the newest thing. You say I'm old fashion , but I say I'm classic. You say newer is better, but I say older is whiser. I also have chapters in my life. They are intersting and some are dall. There are big ones and little ones. Sometimes the little ones are the most importent.

Water

I am like water. I can be smooth, like a little stream. I can be a rough like ragging waterfall. I can be who and what you want me to be. I can fit into any mold.You can stop me with a dam, but I can always breakthrough.

I am a book: I'd judged by my cover, but those who take interest in me will try to learn my story. Those who like me will never forget me, but those who aren't fond of me will forget me. I have many chapters in my life, but don't share every event in my story, just the important things. I may be hard to read at first, but with time, you will get my story. Unlike real books, I haven't come to an end yet, but I'm hoping for good ending.