Enless possibilities
With lots of potential or none what-so-ever
I stare back at you staring back at me
Your mind is a jumble
That caterpillar on your forehead furrows
Tapping the table waiting for something to do
Your head is dead, yet thrives with enitre exotic societies
-or hideous, depending on your mood
I see that pencil lifted by your hand
You're almost ready to tatto me
What will it be this time?
A poem?
A portrait?
A story?
A funny cartoon?
A bunch of doodles?
Don't you dare put me away
Don't you toss me aside
You were so close to starting something grand
a whole step closer to completing something great
If Benjamin Franklin and Leonardo De Vinci say this, you would embarrass them!
That's the trouble with kids these days
You talk all smack
Putting on that act
And whine you don't succeed.
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