Everyone wishes they were just like you,
All polished and posh
But not me, because I know you,
Beneath the polish and posh.

You give everyone a smile and wave,
With your manicured nails,
But that’s not the you that hides in the cave,
Bent over with screeching wails.

They never suspect a thing is wrong,
As you play your fake façade,
Oh, but underneath everything is wrong,
Underneath your fake façade.

So go ahead and play your game,
Let no one know who you are,
But don’t say I don’t know your shame,
For every time you left a scar.

And when one night you’ve had enough,
And finally lay to peaceful rest,
I’ll be there to tell the others you had it rough,
Before I join you in peaceful rest.

-Walker Westing

When the thunder rolls, will you tremble inside? When the strong winds blow, will you seek a place to hide?
When darkness turns the sky to gray, will you turn and run away?

Or will you be the one to ride in and save the day?

When you face a fearsome foe, in the darkness of the night, will you hide in fear, or will you stand and fight?

When a brother has fallen in battle, will you reach out your hand?

When God is calling for a hero, will you be the one to stand?

When it looks as though the cause is lost, when the odds are set against you, will you give in, will you give up, or will you remain true.

When God says GO, will you say 'No, I have other plans'. When all around you have fallen, will you be the one to stand?

When others listen to their fears, will you stand up and say...'I hear you, and Im scared too, but Im going anyway'.

For many will go to battle, and some will not come home. But those who stand in faith will find they never stand alone.

-Randall Alford 

  Creative perception is truth
beyond human comprehension
resulting in a work of art
that is ignited by imagination

The lens of reality takes
a vacation when hands portray
a world with captured sensitivity
leading responses to a doorway

Transporting awareness
into the realm of three hundred
and sixty degrees… challenging preconceived notions in your head

-Theresa Ann Moore

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

- E. E. Cummings

From childhood's hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view.

-Edgar Allen Poe

It was a long time ago.

I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
Bright like a sun--
My dream.
And then the wall rose,
Rose slowly,
Slowly,
Between me and my dream.
Rose until it touched the sky--
The wall.
Shadow.
I am black.
I lie down in the shadow.
No longer the light of my dream before me,
Above me.
Only the thick wall.
Only the shadow.
My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun!

-Langston Hughes

If you were only one inch tall, you'd ride a worm to school.
The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.
A crumb of cake would be a feast
And last you seven days at least,
A flea would be a frightening beast
If you were one inch tall.

If you were only one inch tall, you'd walk beneath the door,
And it would take about a month to get down to the store.
A bit of fluff would be your bed,
You'd swing upon a spider's thread,
And wear a thimble on your head
If you were one inch tall.

You'd surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.
You couldn't hug your mama, you'd just have to hug her thumb.
You'd run from people's feet in fright,
To move a pen would take all night,
(This poem took fourteen years to write--'Cause I'm just one inch tall).

-Shel Silverstein

Chaos ruled OK in the classroomas
bravely the teacher walked in
the nooligans ignored him
hid voice was lost in the din

"The theme for today is violence
and homework will be set
I'm going to teach you a lesson
one that you'll never forget"

He picked on a boy who was shouting
and throttled him then and there
then garrotted the girl behind him
(the one with grotty hair)

Then sword in hand he hacked his way
between the chattering rows
"First come, first severed" he declared
"fingers, feet or toes"

He threw the sword at a latecomer
it struck with deadly aim
then pulling out a shotgun
he continued with his game

The first blast cleared the backrow
(where those who skive hang out)
they collapsed like rubber dinghies
when the plug's pulled out

"Please may I leave the room sir?"
a trembling vandal enquired
"Of course you may" said teacher
put the gun to his temple and fired

The Head popped a head round the doorway
to see why a din was being made
nodded understandingly
then tossed in a grenade

And when the ammo was well spent
with blood on every chair
Silence shuffled forward
with its hands up in the air

The teacher surveyed the carnage
the dying and the dead
He waggled a finger severely
"Now let that be a lesson" he said

-Roger McGough 

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode? 

-Langston Hughes

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream? 

-Edgar Allen Poe