My neighbor has a rooster that wakes me up at 3 am,

I am thankful for that rooster because they love him like a pet.

I am thankful for my ability to imagine new places and new words without charging a dime.

I am thankful for my neighbor, Sonya, who always asks me if I need food.

I am thankful for my imagination when it comes to creating a rhyme.

I am supported by many, and loved by (I hope) all,

I love the life I was given, and the friends my life gave me,

for that, I am thankful.

I was raised in a culture different from the culture my Grandparents wanted me to experience. It could be old age stubbornness, deep rooted prejudice, or their personal beliefs. Either way I love them, despite the derrogatory comments they've given about my home and the country I grew up in (not their country of birth). We don't see eye to eye on immigration policies, refugees, or even interracial marriges, but I love them, and they love me. Last summer my family visited Washington D.C, it was an amazing experience. D.C was full of rich history, amazing architecture, and a lot of taxis. One day in D.C we were lost and I asked a lady how to get to the National Mall, she told me that she only spoke Spanish, which excited me. I hadn't been able to speak Spanish since we'd left home for the summer. When I replied in Spanish she also seemed excited that she was able to speak her mother tongue. I left that situation not only excited for the exchange I had with that stranger, but I was able to get directions. My Grandmother scoffed as we walked towards the bus stop, she said, "If you come to my country you should speak my language." I was so shocked by this remark, I didn't know what to say. My first thoughts were, "How could anyone think this?" She has visited the country where I grew up many times, and she doesn't know the language... I am still saddened by her opinions on many things, but they are her opinions, and I love her. I try to portray enough love to make up for the hate given by other people in hopes that my attitude will show them how nice it is to be loved.

The shooter kicked the door open and we all screamed. Everet wept in my arms as he winced with pain from the stray bullet. I wiped away my tears expecting them to be my last, but the shooter grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the classroom. He pulled me through my teacher's blood, through the shattered glass on the floor, and the bullet casings. I caught a glimpse of my classmates, the ones that were alive, and they watched me leave with horror in their eyes. I had managed to send my mother an "I love you" message when I heard the first gunshots. Just like in the drills before we locked the door, turned the lights out and got under our desks. But the shooter was a student, and he knew the drill. I didn't know where he was taking me or why he chose me, but he lifted my limp body and put it in the trunk of what I guessed to be his car. I heard yelling behind me, and two more gunshots. The shooter grabbed his gun and swung it around, but another shot was fired and this time it penetrated his skull. His blood stuck to my face, I inhaled with my mouth because of all the blood that covered my nose. I screamed, cried, and yelled. I was touched gently by a large hand, the blood was wiped away from my eyes and I saw a man with a helmet on that read "SWAT." I cried with releif and jumped into his arms. Time flew by fast, before I could take another breath I was placed into an ambulance and driven away. I opened my eyes to see the white walls of a hospital, and I was surrounded by my family, it was everything but peaceful. My father was screaming, my mother crying, the doctor yelling, and I, panicking. My eyes bounced around the hallway looking for something to find peace in. The painting of a flower zoomed by, a nurse wearing a blue shirt passed me, and the voices of my family faded away. I opened my eyes again and saw a mask approach my mouth, I took one deep breath and blinked long enough to have a nightmare. My heavy eyelids opened reluctantly, and again I was accompanied by my family, this time peaceful. Mother looked at me endearingly and touched my face, "I love you too." I wanted to form words but my mouth wouldn't allow it, I tried to lift my hand but my arm said no. I laid in the presense of many but touched by one. I looked up to see a metal cover over my bed, and I looked down to see nothing but a sheet. I took another breath and the sheet was placed over my face. I wanted to scream again, "No! I am alive! It is November 5th 2018 and I am alive!" My bed suddenly felt like cold metal, and soon the coldness spread throughout my body, my eyes got heavier and I exhaled one last time. I heard a door open and the fading sound of muffled crying. "Please don't leave me here," I whimpered. I didn't want to die, in fact tomorrow would have been my first time to vote, I was so excited. I hope Everet is ok, there was so much blood, perhaps some of it was mine... Perhaps all of it was mine.

I breathe your symphony.

I inhale your hearts,

and exhale them- broken.

You inhale them broken,

and exhale them- new.

I am soaked by the rain,

I am given a towel- dry,

and I return it- soaked.

You take the towel- wet,

and dry it with your hearts.

Everything good of me from your symphony- comes.

It sings warmth when I am blue,

and satisfies my eyes when they are- dry.

My hero dressed in white-

clothed in dignity yet hidden away,

with her there is always a certain Slant of Light-

what is not to love of her personality?

She had no time to hate (nor love,)

she taught us that the soul selects her own society-

With her wisdom was never destitute of.

She felt a funeral in her brain,

and death kindly stopped for her.

My admiration for her I cannot contain,

the lovely flower whisperer,

She taught me that hope is a thing with feathers,

and hope, she helped me regain.

Autumn sings a song of patience,

Evermore calling out my name.

Immense struggles always follow, but I proceed with determination.

Often I wonder why some leaves stay the same, but-

Understanding when is more important, leaves change- but seasons remain.

You are here to fly- but the sky doesn't accept you.

Having arms instead of feathers, I cry beside you.

Fear controls me, but not you, your soul soars high.

Eventually you can touch the sky.

You are here to fly- but fly alone, the ocean makes my soul rust.

I run to you, Poseidon, for my life to you I entrust.

You are here to fly- fly along side the monsters,

I can think of no other honor.

Search the depths, there only the monsters go.

I long to join them in the deep blue, but my name isn't on the manifesto.

You are here to fly- reach out your featherless arms and hold my hand.

Plunge deep, but I must stay on land.

What was destiny for my friend,

who was killed at age twenty three?

What was fate for my neighbors,

who packed their belongings and fled the country?

A sense of inevitability, like a cloud that rains on me whenever I dwell on it,

blurs my vision and haunts my sleep.

But the thought of unkown is not enough to crush my spirit.

Like a Pheonix out of the ashes I will rise,

like the Nautilus that searches the deep,

so will I fly on the wings of butterflies.

And escape the mold that has been created for destiny,

A song of joy my heart will sing, endlessly.

The mind grows flowers- when it is watered.

Flowers are planted by love,

but they won't take root until they are showered.

Intelligence is something you should never be deprived of.

Use your intelligence,

with which was showered by love without hesitance.

#poetry #intelligence #flowers #love #prose