"In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away." -Shing Xiong *** "Do not go where the path may lead; instead where there is no path and leave a trail." -Ralph Waldo Emerson *** "Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget." -G. Randolf *** "We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us." -E.M. Forster *** "Imagnination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world." -Albert Einstein *** Defintion of Suburbia: A place where they cut down trees and name streets after them. -(Unknown, found on sticker) :p *** "A lie goes halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on." -Winston Churchill***"Love is the irresistible desire to be desired irresistibly." -Louis Ginsberg ***"All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware." -Martin Buber

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

The Box (a poem)

The Box
Written January 2nd, 2013
In my house, there is a box.
The box is mine, and in it I hide
When the house gets too loud
Filled with shouts and tension
Gossip and anger
When it’s too much on the outside
I shut the door on my box
And fill it with tears.

But it’s just cardboard
Very flimsy, very thin
Through its paper walls
I can still hear the agitated din.
Turn up music
Stuff cotton in my ears
Even when it’s quiet
I can still feel the scars
From all the dysfunctional years.

The anger and hurt
Lurks in the shadows
The smell of decay
Took over slowly
Carpet stains spread
The cobwebs hold built-up dread.
I keep my box clean
But there is always a whiff
Of something dead.

In my house, there is a box.
The box is mine, and in it I hide
A tiny sanctuary
From all the hate and tears.
Only a temporary shelter;
I can never fully erase the years.
It’s just cardboard
Very flimsy, very thin
And truly:
Not very safe at all, within.