The Poetry Marathon

Oh good sir,
please help this poor one,
I can’t breathe
it feels so heavy
I can’t see,
it’s so foggy.
It’s hot and humid
I need some air.
Grant me a favour
of a buck or two
so that I can get
a breath of fresh air.
A buck or two,
else I’ll die .

The way you smile
and your eyes sparkle
and all these shades of red,
of this nameless red tree
that reflect off of you.
I realize,
you were the missing piece
of the art that I make,
the shade of color,
I can never get right,
and I will never.
Its better to part
when the sky is still blue,
the stars will never let us.

Mom,
did you catch them all,
the monsters under my bed?
they want me to fall,
that’s what I heard.

I am not afraid
they will eat me alive,
but will you come for my aid,
when they arrive.

I can hear you cry!
Is it a monster,
or dad back from the sty?
I hope its the former.

Oh mom,
let’s run away,
or let’s take a ferry
to the blue bay
and live a life that’s merry.

As the light shine through
all the broken pieces,
that you asked me to fix,
which refracts them
into a million shades
of life and love,
I wonder,
why would I fix them,
or was it ever broken?
Why would I change it
and go back
to the grey cubicles you made.
I’m proud to be here,
and I’d rather stay here
flying through the spectrum
as I want.