The Squirmy Urchin King

There is a fellow that I know with squirmy urchin ways
Who sits upon a throne of biases he's made.
He wears a crown upon his head, fashioned with his words
And shouts at all the other urchins he sees in the world
"You," he cries, with nod of head, "and your squirmy urchin ways
Will bring you down to nothing, and in time, straight to the grave!"
"But excuse me," says a passer by, aren't you an urchin too?"
"Nay," he cried, with wounded pride, "I am a KING you fool!"
"But, Squirmy," says an urchin friend, are you not one of us?"
"A lark! A trick! A mockery!" He laughed as though he'd bust.
"It is you, the horrid and lowly to whom I have been sent.
You must bow before my feet and to my rule be bent!"
"Nay, friend," the fellow urchin said, choking on the words,
"For you to ask such things of us is ridiculous! Absurd!"
"I am KING! Tis I who knows what is right and what is not!
This rebellion in your hearts, it is a thing that must be fought!
I alone know what is best, so follow my decrees!
You ought appreciate any notice paid of you by me!"
A crowd had gathered at this point, listening to what he'd say
But as he yelled and fumed at them, all of them went away.
So on it went, day after day, the same old sort of thing,
For no one dared try to befriend that Squirmy Urchin King.

Ripped Away

Grafted to my being.
Embodied in my sighs.
Your voice echoes in mine.

Woven in the fibers
Circling 'round my heartstrings.
Branded on my mind.
Searing my soul.

The hope, the fear, the agony.
Refraining from reaching out
And pulling you close to me.
Wrapping my heart around you
Like a blanket in the winter.
To keep out the cold, the pain,
The ache I cause you daily.

Thoughts unravel and I find Logic
Fighting against the authoritarian decree that
Wrenched me from my perfect world.
Is it better now for us to be apart?

Apart is what I loathe.
Apart makes me afraid.
Apart is what I know I have to do.

I am torn to tatters dancing in the wind.
My head is heavy, leaden made, yet refuses me sound sleep.
My bones, weak and brittle now, are aching when I breathe.
My eyes burn with tears that will not come.
I miss you.

Mind Game

Probing eyes sear my skin
Secluded even among this great sea of people
There are no stares
It is but a cruel mind game
A short-circuited thought pattern
Repeating the lies until they sound plausible
They become real as I reject the obvious
My eyes scan the masses
In between hastened glances at the floor
For fear they hear my internal screams

Undignified Bliss

She stands in the center of a stone balcony,
Chubby baby fingers extended to the heavens.
Eyes closed,
Face tilted upwards,
Laughing at the tickling raindrops.
Slowly spinning about,
Arms outstretched,
Eyes squeezed tight in glorious bliss,
Until her legs give way.
She lands with a splash in a mounting puddle.
Eyes spring open with a start,
Revealing naught but pristine blue.
Wide open hands slap the water's surface.
A bit of it sprays her face.
Her head jolts back slightly
As her pudgy lips purse in shock
That melts into gargling peppered with giggles.
She glances down to discover knees and toes.
Voices are heard in the distance,
But she finds toe wiggling far more interesting.
A gloved hand reaches down to take hers,
Pulling her to her feet.
Another hand tries in vain to smooth the drenched satin.
They walk away.
One with stately step,
The other stuttered,
Leaving tiny footprints in the royal hall.