A book is not important

It is a rectangle on a shelf.

But a story is full of questions

Things I whisper to myself.

A story is full of magic

And things that hiss and bite.

But if you delve deeper

You'll see things darker than night.

A heart full of darkness

A claw sharper than a knife.

A see those beady eyes,

Then I run for my life.

But these dangers are just stories

Things I cannot touch.

And a story is inside a book

And I know I've read too much.

A book is nothing at all

Just another useless thing.

But never forget the stories

And the dangers that they bring.

Many faces have looked up at me and said,

"Is this ok? Should I delete it instead?"

I look at them and tell them it's perfectly fine

They should publish it

And stop wasting their own time

Why would I know

Whether or not your writing is great

I'm and 11 year old girl

I'm not made out of flawless writing clay!

Whether I like romance or fiction

Shouldn't change your whole entire

Way or diction

Your writing is yours,

Not mine,

To decide

Whether or not

It should be publicized

Make your own choices

Whether it's good or bad

I'm not your big, muscular

Judgmental dad

I love it!

It's great!

This is what I always say!

Inside I'm just thinking

"Go you own way!"

I can't make these choices

Others will

Publish it

See what will happen

Maybe some likes with give you a nice thrill!

Don't feel bad for yourself

Your wasting your time

Second, minutes, hours have gone by

There are someone things that must be done

And think, you could have done at least one

Einstein left high school

And he still pursues

Went above and beyond

To teach teachers how to teach you

You could be like him

A name on paper

An important one

That people will surely remember

Don't discourage yourself

Or beat yourself down

It's a waste of time

You could be writing things down

You can't hesitate to press publish

There's more poems to write

Some small grammatical errors

Shouldn't ruin your whole life

Your writing is great

Whether or not your sure

Your not perfect

No one has ever been before

You can do this

But ONLY if you try

Push yourself to the boundaries

You just might cry

You can do this

I have faith

We all do

Go get 'em!

Your whole life awaits you!

Me is what we call ourselves

Me is you

And also a note

Me is a song

Me is a picture

But more importantly

Me is the meaning of life

Socks.

They are like a cat

Fuzzy and soft

They protect you from splinters on a loft

To keep you warm in the frost

You love them at any cost

Without them, you feel lost

I look to the sky, but it is black.

I here something behind me

But don't turn back.

I am alone in this world

Until I see

The glimmer of light

Behind the tree.

She is meek and small

And not very tall

But when she turns

I hear her call.

The sound is sweet

And loud and clear

But it's full of sorrow

To my ear.

I know now why the sky is dark

Why I can't hear a

single dog bark.

She is a stranger here

And now I know,

Why the lights all disappear.

She is full of sadness

She is so bright.

For she is the girl

Made of Fallen Starlight.