By Korey Brownstein
This is the face of mine.
A face of no happiness,
A face of no laughter,
A face of no glory.
This face is expressionless,
Full of nothing, eyes of emptiness
Do you know what this face is thinking?
There is neither anger nor hatred
Nor disgust. But love it.
It�s going to stay awhile.
A face of grumpiness, you say.
Wrong. I�ll tell you the face of mine.
A face of sensitivity and behind it,
Deep down inside of it,
Very much love for you.
***
"The Man Eating Shark, Sark"
(a children's poem)
By Korey Brownstein
When I first swam in the ocean, I met a shark,
An English shark he was, by the name of Sark.
I was a kid then, the day I first met the ocean blue.
I was from Billings and now lived in Miami.
That was my home and the shark became my friend.
I met Sark when he watched me swim by and by.
He said, "Great," and helped me more. That was that
Until Mom found out, Dad found out.
Mom got scared, Dad got mad,
And they cried out together: "For gosh sakes,
That shark named Sark is a man eating shark."
But I said back, "I�m a boy,"
And played more with Sark until I aged more than a whole
And off to college I waved to go.
No more deep blue sea for me.
Then I came home again to be with my family
In Miami�I missed them so, and my friend, too.
I decided it was time to visit Sark.
Mom said no! Dad said no!
I went anyway, and there he was,
Big and blue. Did he have a clue it was me?
I said hi and joined him in the sea.
He said bye and as you can see,
I joined the fish inside Sark, the man eating shark.
Oh, dear, he knew it was me�
How could this come to be?