Cliche

I want to fall in love,
a warm hand to stroke my face.
I want to be held safely,
Oh! I long for an embrace.
But is their such a person
who's love would be so true?
I've got someone in mind.
I want to fall in love
with you.

Invisible

P  a  c  i  n  g,
    POUNDing.

Up
     and
           down.

     ump           ump
Th       ing,   b        ing,

With
the
beat
of
my
         heart       heart
            heartheart
                heart
                   t

You
STOP
and lOOk at me.

Listening               Staring.

I (wonder) what you
will
>DO.

But you
                            leave
me.
C                  D
  r                     y
    y                     i
       i                      n
         n                       g
             g                        .

Life is Not a Crayon

Life is not a crayon.

A crayon will never lose

its color, it will never

fade.

Not so with life.

Memories fade, people

die. The colors they splashed

on the world disappear

and are distorted

year

after year.

Generation

after generation.

A crayon's color will never

disappear--

though it may warp

with heat and pressure--

it will stay true

to its nature. It will not rebel

against or mock its God-given color

I will not be ashamed

of its patient pink,

bold blue, truthful

teal, blunt brown, or wishful

white.

A crayon will wear

its color proudly,

loyally.

Te marks they leave

behind stay,

they stay.

The crayon may be gone,

but its color can never

be forgotten.

Life is not a crayon.