detremental determination does doing the thing sinking sound and lost among poor poems provided periodically.

away awakenings awkward wordings and wounded wear to tear at fabric too thick to truly see through and be thoroughly.

winter winds round stone to cone confetted crazily in mirror miracle moops whose whipped legions leak the lessons learned infinity.

my day is full when the night does come
my day is full as the rivers run
my day is full like the clouds in the sky
my day is full as the waters dry
spring happens when the winter ends
spring happens when the creator pretends
spring happens with the spill of a cup
spring happens when I'm all full up
my favourite fantasy is the steps I take
my favourite fantasy is the friends I make
my favourite fantasy is my own fear
my favourite fantasy gets lost in here
if I could change one thing I would have more friends
if I could change one thing I would make amends
if I could change one thing I would kiss the girl
if i could change one thing I would dance and twirl
three things I will do in the future:
enjoy the summer with all my friends
stop eating eggs dairy and meat
play more of my saxophone
I think money that is spent on love is a good investment
A memorable sports activity is playing hackey sack in a big circle with my friends in school
I hate it when people tell me to do more than I can do for them

(I wrote this at a creative writing circle in the Clarke. It was just before a meeting with dr. Ravindram, my social worker, and my mother. I wanted to get out of the hospital, so I wrote a poem. It is a strange thing)