All I’ve Got

I really really wanted to write a wonderful and deeply thoughtful piece for this week but finals have run me over, switched into reverse, and run me over again, so here are a couple of poems I wrote when I first began writing seriously that I have been storing for a rainy day. Or perhaps it would be more appropriate to call it a drought of creativity. Perhaps it gives some insight to the innocent mind of a young writer who hasn’t been corrupted by rigorous criticisms and edits that have come from teachers, mentors, and standardized tests. Perhaps it will show you how far I’ve come. Perhaps. Perhaps perhaps is my current favorite word.

Anyways, enjoy.

The Plan

Today we had a plan

a simple task

a plain road map

and our bags that sit on our lap.


The bus creaked

it whined and purred

and scraped and screeched

getting on was just a step

but getting off was a giant leap.


The road stretched  in front of us is an old film

it plays over and over

and nothing changes.


What will we find?

Who will we meet?

Words spin in my head as I bounce my feet.


One thousand years later

the bus screams to a stop.

He nudges me

but I’m frozen in my spot.


Its finally time.

We’re  finally here.


But both of us can sense it.

A change of plans

is very near.



A Weird Poem


Weird is such a strange word


I find, it has become my name.


It comes as a statement,

An accusation.


But my response is only as well thought out

as my own understanding of the word.


“Weird” is me

and I am “Weird”, I guess.


But if the minority is weird then I am not weird.

In fact, anyone who isn’t weird is weird, in reality.
It makes sense in my head, anyways.


Hope you’re surviving finals or whatever it is you need to survive.




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