Oh My!

It appears as though I've slacked off on my Lent agreement.  What a shame.  It's time to catch up, by writing a super amount of poems in one night!

Btw, Spring Break.  I've mostly slept it away and am now frantically catching up on work.  It's a sad existence, college life... etc.

Poem 4

What's this?
A mystery?
A bon-afide mysterious event?

No!
They said they died out a millennia ago.
The movies took away all the wonder, they said.
But yet there it is!

I saw a future
That only left me with questions.
My future.
Is it so that our life is mystery
In of ourself?
Is magic a lie?

I guess only They know.

____________________
Poem 5

When He returned nothing was the same.
Forever is a long time, after all.
He was promised rags to riches that come with age,
But instead went from riches to rags.

Old times long forgotten
Were still as new to He.
And as he told them as stories,
The memories began to take form.

And then the memories that had taken form
Would only lose their meaning;
For in becoming legend,
Personal significance was lost.

He sighed, and left to the real world.
Such is the fate of grown-ups.

_____________
Poem 6

Oh boy! Oh boy!
The time is drawing near.

Oh boy!  Oh boy!
It's all becoming clear.

Oh my! Oh my!
What reason's there to sigh?

Oh my!  Oh my!
I'm really, really high.

___________
Poem 7

A salute I propose
To the man lost out there.

Lost to the ways of others,
Confined to his own space;
He knows not how to compare,
For he has little time to spare.

Out there one finds only greed;
And yet, he finds that it could be a need.
Without greed, said he,
Where would the world be?

Such logic makes too much sense.
And, with that, the man vanished.
Consumed by his greed, it was everything
He was in need of.

Here's to you, sir.

______________
Poem 8

The day is done.
When all's gone quiet,
I wake.
I slither through corridors,
Sidle across roofs.
Slide down drainage poles,
Slip in the slime.

Through the streets I creep
To wait for my friends.
But where are they?
I cannot say.

There they are, together.
Without me.
The night ends.

Another night comes.
Tonight, I do more than creep.
I strike.
To those whom abandone me,
I pay my respects...
Only to tell them to Greet Death.

And only in my mind does this Memory Play exist.
Another time,
Another place.

____________
Poem 9

Rain
Rain
Rain

Droplets of memories
That fall from the sky.

Even when we catch them,
They remain private.
For they contain both tears
And dreams...
Too personal
For their owners to keep.

I, however, can see.
For I am A Dreamer.
I see the Dreams.
The tears remain a mystery,
As they should.

But perhaps a Crier could read them.