Cecellia King

Happy Birthday to us, We'd rather rob a buss, or shall we learn to cuss?
What shall we get? Without any regret?
Will we see the morings light? or will we have to fight?
Will there be wind? Or will we Oeet our lifes end?
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I have no heart, you tour it apart.
I use to be careing, but now I am only daring.
I want to see someone dead, to see there red, because I know I wont feel dread.
I wish to die, I want to see you finally cry.
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Once you see my eyes, do you also see the sky blue tides?
When you see the moon, can you believe its only noon?
Can you feel the luck of the black cat crossing the street, almost as well as you feel the presence of a strangers feet?
Do you like the color blue? Can you believe some peoples lucky number is two?
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We have our good times, without tossing any dimes.
Then we have our bad times, always creating fun/bad, crimes.
Do you ever really see me? Or do you just see me as new company?
Do you like cats, rats, bats, animals? ? ? Or are you happily a canible?
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I wonder why you are so happy that I did not die, why I cheated death 3times,
I could have had my chance to fly.
Is it so we can go in may, and finally experence that play?
I tell you all the time to do well, to say, have a great holiday.
Why is it when we always hopw to go on the run, then sadly we see the sun?
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My birth has only been a curse.
People try to listen, but then they go disen.
Life is bore, right to earths core.
I were a mask, that happens to give you a task.
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You know I tryed, But I just dyed.
Lets go play, its just another worthless day.
When ever you cry, you do understand I die.
When ever I see rainy clouds, It fills me with compleat doughts.
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My newest poem:
You do not understand
As sand falls through thy hand,
You say you know me, but for I am plenty,
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Why do people try to be nice? Can't they tell this is not quite pearidice?
We try to appear to how we want to been seen, but for some people it is just an endless dream.
People try to pretend that people have starlight, and yet it not s hard as it looks to fight.
When little people or strong willed people cry, why must everyone try to help?
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