poems by me!!!!!!!!

Here are a few of my poems!!!!!

Fly with the Butterflies

Fragile fingertips glide smoothly

across the fingerboard,

attempting to master

their latest piece.

Bruised and calloused

from hours of fingerings

on thin wire strings

they struggle to keep up,

at a good pace.

I play the intricate piece,

while clearing my mind,

before the big performance.

My fingers dance

across the strings

like a tightrope walker,

would waltz across a rope

doing a difficult act

in the circus

as if it's nothing at all.

My emotions flow

through the music,

making the song stronger,

as it reaches the crescendo.

Only to come back down

to the simple note

that signals the end of the piece.

I feel confident in my playing

at the moment until right before I perform.

It feels as if

my stomach is a cage

with butterflies running

into the walls

trying to break free.

I try to shake the feeling

but end up shaking.

I hold my violin tight,

while pacing before

the big performance.

I walk up on stage,

que the accompanist,

and begin the piece.

As I play

the butterflies find

a way out.

I forget all my worries

and fly away in the music

with the butterflies.

My Life Crashing

Some adults tell me I don’t remember

what it was like

for the Twin Towers to come

crashing down on my life.

It was when nightmares became reality

and bad guys were not just in fairy tales

they actually exist.

It was when I became scared

that they would crash into my house

in the middle of the night.

Others assume

I was too young to understand

or remember the emotions I felt

when I found out what happened,

and if I had any emotion at all

it was because my parents had felt them.

But they don’t know that my aunt

almost died in the second tower.

They don’t know

the anger and fear I had.

For two days,

lines were overwhelmed with people

trying to find their loved ones.

We were worried

worried that she was hurt

or maybe even worse.......

dead

I remember being on the phone

with my aunt, in tears,

knowing she was in New York,

worrying she had gotten injured or killed.

I finally heard her voice

and knew she was okay.

Later I found out

that she was scheduled

to be in a meeting that got double booked,

in the top of one of the buildings,

and she watched the whole thing

from her hotel room window.

That day in September

was the day that left a scar in my heart,

a reason to sympathize with families

that had someone die in there.

It was a day that left a blanket of fear

covering the nation.

Now I watch videos

of rivers of smoke

pouring out of the towers

into the perfectly blue sky,

and I can’t help but be grateful of the fact,

my aunt was protected and survived 9/11.

Who I Really Am

Everyone thinks

that I am the girly girl

that only cares about

cute dresses and shoes,

But I’m not.

I love dressing up

all fancy,

and wearing pink.

but that’s not all of me.

I love hiking,

biking,

and backpacking too.

Lots of people

seem to think

that I don’t like to get dirty,

But I do.

I love the feeling of mud

seeping in between my toes,

then washing them off

in the cold stream.

Everyone thinks

that my favorite color

is pink and only pink.

But in reality I also adore

chocolate brown,

baby blue,

and sage green also.

Not everybody

understands me.

It seems that

they just assume.