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Drop it at ten, don’t wait
for regret—cool is dead,
just be yourself…

Or re-define it, re-pine it,
even trees need shade
so thank the clouds, us

a quiet nine months
‘til we come out loud,
come to school, drop the act—

You’ll be grateful if you do.
Give a flower, listen and try;
give ‘teach an apple, and

Do the things that help
you not to die, be humble
indeed to your life—drop

The routine, trying to impress
the best-dressed, obey the law,
Commandments, traditions

All the things parents say—well,
proper ones. If you do not
have proper parents: I’m sorry.

That’s why make poems,
to parent the parentless with
words brought down from scary

skies to help us all realize
(poets too), that it’s never
too early in life to try. Try,

Drop the cool, kill it now
or at least it redefine: give
all you got to life, be yourself

And make it truly sublime.

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