What I Want To Be (when I grow up)

Now this is a tale I wish I'd been told

Back when I was 8 years old

When teacher said now listen here

It's about time that you found careers

Something that will make you wealthy

And keep your family fed and healthy

Something that may not be much fun

But the benefits are second to none


And so I listened to each child say

What they want to be some day

Some said nurses, some said vets

One said teach the alphabet

“Wouldn't you like to be a judge?”

No says I, I will not budge

Then Teacher said, whilst turning purple,

I could not be a ninja turtle

Nor a wizard or a beanstalk farmer

And superhero was not the answer

I'd rather not be stacking shelves

When I could discover trolls and elves

She fires choices at me 1, 2, 3

But fireman does not appeal to me

Nor policing or a dentist

Can't I be a magicians apprentice?

“No!” she screeched, losing all control

“I'm tired of this rigmarole!”

“You just do not seem to understand”

“How important it is to have this planned!”

So I sat and listened to this pedagogue

And her long and dreary monologue

By the end it was so plain to see

That she had almost given up on me

So at this point I offer my apology

And said I'd like to do archaeology

She said “hooray!The boys come round!”

“What's made you want to dig underground?”

I'd like to sail from sea to shore

To discover my own dinosaur

It's a job I'll find much more exciting

Than stuck inside an office writing

And once I've found this once fearsome beast

With giant claws and razor teeth

I'd bring him back from non existence

And ask him for some job assistance

“Don't be silly”, Teacher said

“You can't bring things back that once were dead”

She says I'm mad and wide of the mark

I take it she's not seen Jurassic Park?


She was so angry and could take no more

And she threw me in the corridor

I tried one last time to really thrill 'er

I told her I really could find Godzilla


She screamed "I cannot take this anymore!" 

And on that note she slammed the door

So I reflect that maybe I've gone too far

But I don't care for bags of money or fancy cars


Life's too short and far too fleeting

To be in and out of office meetings

So to give up on your dreams and magic

To work in a bank would be quite tragic

So if you want to avoid catastrophe

It's time to listen carefully

Never give up on your wildest dreams

And you'll end up where you're meant to be

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I Will Give You Water

Water will surely fall from the sky,

it's the bus route of weather,

Stopping at sunshine,

Getting of on a cloudy day,

Taking the transfer to a spring shower,

But why is it so certain that the plants will accept the sky's offering?

Isn't their delicacy of slightest concern?

Hasn't the plant ever questioned the hp balance of the water?

Or the cloud's proximity to a nuclear plant?

How have they continued on thriving?

Indiscriminately welcoming whatever the ground gives them.

Think of my love as water,


It may have collected a few toxins here or there,

But it started from a stream that would only flow for you,

If you can never see past the warning labels,

On the bottles of "what if's?"

How then,

Will our flowers grow?


Author's Notes/Comments: 

I plan on adding to this soon

** i did not

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One Day....

One day I will be the long narrow driveway,

Tour guide welcoming those ravenous window shoppers,

Aspiring photographers,

Into my hand painted,

Family stained,


My kids will play in our serene garden our composed yard,

Where the deer and rabbits will come to watch our love be magnificent,

They'll spy as those tiny mysteries board their bus to private school,

The trouble makers will shoot them down,


Self- pity,

Yearning for their way of life,

They'll know,

As I did,

These angels are real,

Their happiness genuine,


One day I will smile like you,

Satisfy like you,

I'll fill the blackest night with innocent magic,

Flush these backward alchemy bottles down the drain,

The nausea of sanity's prerequisites,

I'll be the good son,

The good worker,

Scholarly student,

Church goer,

Philanthropic billionaire,

Retirement home socialite,

Tracing my good deeds through every continent,

The safari of retribution,


Put aside these atrocities,

Bugs on the windshield,

Nails on the chalkboard,

One day I will be extaordinary,


Their resonance deafening in sleepy rooms,

Scrambling to break free,

Lunging towards the basement door,



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what do i want to be?
more than anything,
a flower.
so soft and tender,
you must touch me
a fragile thing i’d be.
i’d have it easy.
to be beautiful
without ever trying.

maybe we are all flowers
lovely little things
something to admire
in each of us
with intricate details
of our own
that others discover.
but only those who are
those who stick around
until we bloom,
once every petal is
one by one,
opened up
when we decide it’s safe.

i think i am a flower
that hasn’t seen the sun,
and has yet to be watered.
well i’m starting to think so
but i haven’t got a clue.

maybe i am one that is
dried up,
whose petals are dying
loosing its color
and everything there is
to desire
until there’s not a point in trying
and there’s nothing
to admire,
and i’ll give up,
no other choice but
to retire.

no way of knowing
if i am right or wrong.
if i am closer to the end
or the beginning.

i want to believe
i am a flower
only unnoticed because
i have yet to blossom.
that my efforts now
remain unimportant
entirely because
i am still young,
and not because
i am withered and worthless.

either way,
we all end up in the dirt somehow.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i feel like i've gone through life unnoticed regardless of how much i try or what i do, while there are so many others whose every action is recognized and paid attention to. i'm only 18 but part of me feels like it's too late and that there's nothing left to give, but i'd like to think that things will change as i'm getting older.

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