“We’re prisoners of War. Our dreams have been doctored. We belong nowhere. We sail unanchored on troubled seas. We may never be allowed ashore. Our sorrows will never be sad enough. Our joys never happy enough. Our dreams never big enough. Our lives never important enough. To matter.”
After she’d scrubbed,
And mopped and rubbed,
And scraped and groaned,
And screamed and moaned,
And hoped and feared,
The stain reappeared.
– My grade 8 poem
“Man is only a reed. The feeblest reed in nature; but he is a thinking reed. There is no need for the entire universe to arm itself in order to annihilate him; a vapor, a drop of water, suffices to kill him. But were the universe to crush him, man would yet be more noble than that which slays him, because man knows that he dies, and the advantage that the universe has over him; of this the universe knows nothing. Thus all our dignity lies in thought.”
If i could be one thing,
I’d be a cigarette.
So close to your lips,
so full of regret,
I’d be a cigarette.
I’d hide in your pocket,
or raise a match for you.
I would always linger
on your clothes and your fingers,
I’d be a cigarette.