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By Myron Nilsson

There’s a life I have not seen.

It stays is a place I have not been

Every time I think I find it

I realize that I don’t know squat.

Jack took me by the nose

He led me down to the sidewalk

And told me to go and not to stop

Until I reached that same spot.

That is where my story ends
At the same place where it began

But somewhere in the middle

I smile and think, I’m up side down.

Puddle of Love

By Myron

One year I never missed a single day of school.

On wet days we feared the dangerous tricking pools.

So class stayed in and we sat on our floor,

Silently tossed a ball while outside it poured.

On the bus ride home I sat behind my crush

Enjoying the storm, watching the grass turn to mush

I opened the window and she started to laugh

As water squeezed through the crack and pelted my lap.

I smiled while the bus gracefully slid to my stop

There my brother waited to save me from the drops.

My friends ran with backpacks over there heads

As my brother started the car, turned to me and said. . .

Watch this.

The car took off before I could buckle

My brother grinned and aim for the puddle

My poor little heart broke knowing I could not save

My one true love from a title wave.