Sometimes I can’t help but wonder what
my hand would feel like in your own,
but these childish, wishful thoughts I have?
Their presence I cannot condone
This Hope
I once had this hope
that maybe my poems
would speak all the words
that I knew I could not;
That the right choice of words
and the right amount of something
that I did not have would be enough
when I knew that I was not;
That maybe the emotions
that I’m constantly holding back
would be felt in my writing
that I knew I could not share.
but I know they are not.
I still have this hope
that maybe someday they will
if I would only share those poems
with the rest of the world
and not keep them to myself…
yet I know I will not.
Balloon
I wish I was a balloon,
Reaching for the stars and moon.
Rising above my fears.
Leaving behind all the pain and tears.
They sing to their own tune.
How I wish I was a balloon
Baffy Basics 