Your favorite poem...written by YOU

Oh how the city of cast out souls and Unforbidden dreams grabs me into her hypnotic clutches.
An angel by design, but a lost demon in the soul she entices me to go for the fame and limelight.
She tells me to let her rebuild my entire persona and build a facade based off taking my career to a new international height.
She blinds me with reflections of a plastic surgeon's flaw ridden touches.
She bathes me in the unforgetten souls of fallen Hollywood starlets.
Molding me to let the paparazzi defame my character and leave my morals at the gateway.
Only to let the tabloids see me as a fame induced monster feigning for the devil's pay.
She blew my money on private jets and more illegal body augmentations.

But oh my sweet Los Angeles give me my Hollywood star cemented on your golden pavements.
My star crossed lover place me on my rightful throne next to the A list celebrities.
Take me on your magical, mystical voyage where the human dreams are mere figments.
Where I can meet people with flamboyant and out of this world personalities.
Sweet city of Lost Angels with your street urchins, crushed dreams and high class elegance
Take me under your enchanted angel wings and turn me into a star that conveys the upmost arrogance.

If elephants could fly, then the world wouldn’t be able to…
Close their eyes and pretend they haven’t seen something new
Up in the clear blue sky, the elephant certainly has a great view
There’s no way to deny what we see; soon one plus one won’t equal two.

If elephants could fly, then I should be able to reach my goals
Say a few goodbyes and liberate my weary soul
I want to spread the truth and abolish all lies; free us from this chocking control
Even if it’s just me, myself and I; at least I’m now whole.

If elephants could fly, then I’d know imagination can come true
Living in the magic of July, this string of love leads me to you
We’ll never know what’ll happen unless we try; when I looked into your eyes, I knew…
That this wasn’t the time to be shy, and I can’t look away from your shade of blue.

If elephants could fly, then I’d know that the impossible can happen
I have loved ones on whom I can rely, more so than I can even imagine
I feel like I am so high, as my blood burns with limitless passion
If elephants could fly, than I’m a majestic dragon!

I am the one they feverishly hide.
​A disgrace of respected loins,
behind fashioned walls inside.
​Born with limbs that withered in
​the womb of shame, birthed uneven legs
​that limps and lames. My mother
shown pity and hints of care, but
her face as she looks away... in obvious
​regret and all things unfair.
The higher born of old families rooted in
​Victorian mansions as I.... is where
​you can find little rooms as these well hidden
​where we, the unknown lived and most often died.

A small window facing a wall was my only view,
​along with tree tops of pines as they hopefully grew,
​but never outside, a wish of non sense I sagaciously knew.

The mute maid, with head bowed would service
my chamber pot but once a day. My ankles swollen
from bed irons that chain me to these
wooden floors where my dirty bed roll lay.
As a child I recall the chains being much heavier than I,
perhaps more than the burden my parents
endured in their everyday lie.
The bricks that forced me in, also allowed me faint
pleasures of my family I'd hear, but not I and why?
​because I am grotesquely ugly,
in admittance I sigh....
​I don't believe my siblings knew of me at all.
​Could they love me as I love them, if in their
​innocence they saw?.... no... in sibling love,
let them keep their unknown names and perfect
​faces distant beyond my darkened hall.

Father rarely visited my imprisoned and stench
stained room. When he did, it was always in routine
of drunken rage. My back bared obediently awaiting
its doom. Accompanied by whips and sticks of wood,
I'd crawl into my mind where I was at my prettiest
and took his hate as best I could.
​When inebriation played its tired part...on my
floor he'd sometimes lie in sleep. Beside my father
I coiled and softly place his arm around me, without
sounding a single peep. Beneath hateful hands of pretend,
I'd fall in thankful feels of weep.

​I had no fantasies or dreams to escape to in the
contorts of my mind. Impossible...how could I?..
if not seen or known of anything beyond my room
to remember or rewind. Insanity played its cruelty
on me from time to time, but it was a welcomed
friend aside from the roaches and rats that
accepted me in my filth and grime.

​The awaited day is here that I no more fear.
Alas, father speaks a kind word and breathes...
" The snow is falling do you see it forming on the
​branches of tree?"..... "yes father"...
a first kiss on my head, when his angered reflection in
​my window I see... as he swung his merciful
hammer to end his disappointment in me.