Gregory Corban Jr. Poems

I wish for a place, where whatever I touch.
Is something I can taste.
And where there is much, we are allowed.
To eat such and such.
...

The crowd roars, like a mighty wind.
Countless weaker warriors, frightened.

Towering men, pit against each other.
...

Closer and closer it comes, it makes me so scared, I just want to run!
Mama and Papa say I could be freed, if I just overlooked this horrible fiend.
But so mighty and great it overwhelms me, an adult doesn't know how this five year old sees.
Every night I go sleepless, stuck in its presence, only the sun can rid of this menace.
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Swords swing, with a mighty ‘shhhing! '
Arrows fly, its job to soar through the sky.
Spells cast, followed by a blast.
People never bored, how can we keep from this world of Sword?
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I need to write a poem, but what should I do?
Should I just start writing or think it through?
I need to write a poem, but should I let it rhyme?
Should I make it my best or until it's just "fine"?
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My dear Mrs. Reed, you were always there for me.
My dear Mrs. Reed, you loved to chat while sipping tea.
My dear Mrs. Reed, I could always talk to you.
My dear Mrs. Reed, I knew you could help me through.
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If I were to tell a story, what would it be?
A story of romance and tragedy?
A classic with pigs yelling ‘wee wee'?
Or an adventure featuring troll bridges requiring a fee?
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My family is weird; they have a case of the crazies.
They've stolen Santa's beard, on the parade at Macy's.

Or what about the time, Uncle Lou chewed on Lenny's head.
He said it tasted sublime, and left Lenny almost dead.
...

Could you tell me who you are?
An adventurer lad who's traveling from afar?
Perhaps a space pirate headed to a distant star?
Maybe your just a drunkard who coming back from the bar!
...