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Greasy Hair

The cackling flames waltz
upon the grimy figure,
whose grease storms down
her face like rain pouring
from a hurricane cloud.

Early Spring, Late Winter

The snow rushes in
the rough, black-falling heavens.
Ghosts whisper at night.

All because she was a Jew

The girl who died on the table
told many fables that were able
to teach morals of hope.

She used the cleansing soap
to clean her dope sins that she
wouldn't cope with. She

would always smile with glee
at the spree of happy moments;
she would agree to aid

anyone who needed to wade
through the waters of cascad-
ing work.

One day, the berserk
Nazi's invaded a place where
no one shirks. This Jewish girl
would never smirk again.

Put in the ghettos and drained
of happiness, she strained to
remain sane for the rest
of her hard working time
on Earth.

To the Germans's she
was worth nothing more than
the birth of a worm.

She was nothing more
than a germ that wouldn't
be good for anything but
being criticized and killed.

For the rest of her life, she
would build up dreams that
would always be unfulfilled.
Not

one dot of cheer would caught
up in this girl's hear ever again.
Everything would

change forever, for this good
girl was like a caterpillar, once
evolved, she can not go back
to the way

she used to be. The day
she was taken away from
the ghetto to go "work"
in the concentration

camps would be the day
the nations against Hitler
would start a formation
to finally defeat him.

Waiting in the line, her eyes
brimmed with knowing that this
was going to be her last
moment from this grim place.

Inside, after her hair, clothes,
and shoes were erased from
her presence, she braced
herself. This "bath" would
be the last one she would
take.

As the gas snaked
towards the girl, she quaked
with the fear dying; she was
fully through the stage of
metamorphosis -- a butterfly --
never able to make her
wings spread.

The girl who died on the table
told many fables in heaven that
were able to make angels
smile as bright as the sun.

Ghost

(The girl opens the coffin
after every living thing has
left.)

Moaning, like a child
who got into trouble,
she yells out that she
got into purgatory, but
not heaven or hell.

(She was a perfect person ..
always smiling, helping others,
like a perfect person should do.
Never, had she been mean to anyone.
Small sins splotched her life here and
there, but other than that,
she could've -- should've -- gotten
a free ticket into glory.)

This girl is a monument
of hate. Her own family didn't mourn
her, she was stuck on this horrid
planet even after death, and no one
could see her.
Seeking revenge is her ideal
form of fun.

Everything her father said
at the house was a lie -- it had
to be. "I'm glad our daughter's
dead! She always expected everyone
to glorify her."
couldn't be the truth! Her mother
was like any other, still mourning
the loss of family.

There is nothing this
poor child could do, so,
like ghosts should do,
she makes her home close
to her father.
Everything was his fault.
She would've been chatting
with family members if
he hadn't "accidentally"
stuck the knife into her;
her father's "bear hugs" always
did resemble those of a hippo's
rage.

Raindrop

My mother cries me
to life as my father brings
me to the ocean.

Paper

I lie on top of my brothers
and sisters, like those humans
when they make dog-piles.

I don't know my fate;
will it be like my mother, who
got sucked into the strange portal,
never to be seen again?
Will it be like my father, who
was scooped out of the nest,
like the mother human does
with the younglings, only to
be crumpled up and thrown
around?

My brothers and sisters have told
me stories; they made my face
as a pale as a cloud. Luke,
the one on the bottom, once
told a tale about getting sucked
into the strange portal.
He said that once you went
in, you couldn't go back ...
(and you had no choice
going inside it in the first place).
It stiffens you all up ("You are
cardboard by now." he said),
and thousands of little needles
punch millions of human runes
on top of you. "Back when I was born --
and placed in here -- there was a great portal
disaster. Twenty of the ones on top got
sucked in ... one after the other. It
was horrible! Some say it was the
portal's fault; others say it was the human's
fault. I agree with the latter." he would
always say.

Well, two weeks passed; and I
would still lay eager as the baby
youngling -- the one who would seem
to always ask questions. Alas,
one morning came, and something
dramatic happened. I got sucked
into the portal. I screamed and yelled,
but my brothers and sisters didn't hear
me! (They are rocks when they sleep.)
Luke was right -- about everything.
But, when it all ended, I was scooped
out of the top of the nest, like my father.
I was folded up, and was sent off to live
with another family of humans. I was
migrating (you could say), like the ducks
when they fly south. Three days I was
in that thing the humans called an envelope.
Until one day, someone opened it. He took
me to the wall -- the horrifying yellow wall.
He got a pin as sharp as a blade and stuck
it through me; I was stuck on the wall forever.
But, I was alive. This is my fate ... for now.
A new destiny will come for me; I'm
guessing it will not be a fairy-tale one,
though.

Ambidextrous Braggart

Her classmates were jealous
of her amazing talents. They were
bees, angered by a fellow worker.
Writing with both hands was her
special talent; and everyone hated
it, like a florist hating a flower.

She would always flaunt
her talents, like the sun
does when it shines.
The reason her classmates
loathed her talent was because
she was an egotist, putting
people down if they weren't like
her. No one was.

When the summer came,
everyone thought it would be
the end of her bragging days -- but
no! She had the nerve to be like a mosquito
and keep pestering people with her amazing
talent.