| DANIEL'S POEMS |
| My Trumpet What is my life? My life begins when I am awakened from my warm, black padded room. I get up, and start to clear my throat, and then I get cleaned, and warmed up, ready to sing. Oh the memories, When my life first began, I could only play the simplest tune, and as I grew older, the more complicated the songs became. The range of my voice became lower and higher, now I can sing almost three and a half octaves. Ah the memories I used to be full of gleam, and when I sang, people listened. Now I lay here in the dark, all dull and drab, but I still sing every now and again, only now, most of the joy is gone, and I now sing the saddest of tunes. |
| Me Quiet- conservative guy, If you please, don't call me, I am shy. I don't like being in crowds, or any kind of large ilk. I become edgy and nervous, Like I am vinegar in milk. Please forgive me if I forget your name, I have a poor memory for those kinds of things, but all is not lost, I will still remember you- but by your face If it still feels necessary for you to meet me, do not use the phone, Because all that I will do is pretend nobody is home. Why I hate talking on the phone? I do not know why, please do not question me any further, Good-bye. |
| Masks Masks, Masks, that's all I wear, Many beautiful colors they are. Perhaps you have seen me, Perhaps you have not. I wear this mask to hide my face, Though you may say that I'm not ugly, And to take it off. You are wrong. I do not wear this Mask for my looks, But for my protection. I wear my mask To hide the real me, that is what a mask is for. Have you seen my Mask? You may think you haven't. But are you sure? To everyone, my mask is different, Sometimes red, blue, or even black, With silver streaks. What my mask looks like is up to you, But I wear one, and probably you too. For in this masquerade, we call life; We all wear masks. Except for those Unfortunate ones who don't. They are persecuted, and not wanted at all, Not asked to dance, and so, They are kicked out of the ball. I have taken off my mask before, and stood my ground, So now, I put it on, not only to hide myself, But the scars that are now found. Masks, Masks, that's all I wear, Many beautiful colors they are. You have seen me, But you have not. |