My mind is like a pen.
It keeps on writing, thinking.
No matter what it is,
I thoroughly think it out.
My mouth is like paper,
It transfers my message, my ideas.
I observe.
I question.
I have the knack to figure things out.
I may not be the best at it,
But I'll work around it,
Over it and possible swim under
Its bridge.
Somehow I'll get over that ridge,
No matter what.
I'll run pass a moving train,
I will fly across Jupiter's moons.
I'll perform my heart out on a Broadway stage,
I'll write it out, then turn the page.
My feet will burn, they'll explode me into the sky.
My hands will freeze and I'll save the world,
One at a time.
I'll perform Beethoven and not forget
A single note.
I'll make a ballad out of my writings
So I'll never forget the thing's I wrote.
Never forget the thing's I'll write.
Remember those special, glorious nights.
I'm invincible, no one can take me down.
I'll break through walls, barriers.
Fly alongside a bird, I'll be a pigeon carrier.
I'll take the mail from the pigeon
And fly so fast like a storm with rage.
I'll write it out, then turn my page.
Here I am, on my backyard swing.
Observing the sky above me.
Looking past the clouds, the planes,
The stars, Earth's atmosphere.
Already believing that I have everything here.
April 19, 2010
