The Big Man Upstairs

Death.
It's a
sad
thing.
And yet,
why sad?
He's
going
to meet
his
Maker.
Why sad?
He's
up there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Patiently.
'Till
you, go to
be

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poem by Hannah Shier
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To Keep Watching

The one thing that made my day, today
He was handed a slip of paper
The one thing that made my day, today

The teacher's face blank and unreadable
The student's face pale and drawn with fear
The one thing that made my day, today
Until he read the paper

The one thing that made my day, today
The door shut closed behind the teacher
The one thing that made my day, today

All the other students turned back around
Except one
The one thing that made my day, today
And that one saw the thing that made her day

The one thing that made my day, today
The boy read the paper ... and he smiled.

poem by Hannah Shier
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To Knock on a Door

Who
Who
Who knocks?
Who knocks at
Who knocks at my door?
Who knocks at my door - not chamber
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks?
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks? Is it a raven - a raven
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks? Is it a raven - a raven named Nevermore that knocks, knocks at my non-chamber door?
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks? Is it a raven - a raven named Nevermore that knocks, knocks at my non-chamber door? ... No, it's just my brother, Josh, that knocks, knocks at my non-chamber door:
It's time for dinner.

poem by Hannah Shier
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Wish List:

I wish I was different.
I wish I had the mind of Einstein.
I wish I had the social skills of my sisters.
I wish I had the body of Angelina Jolie.
I wish I had the voice of India Arie.
I wish I had the temper of Mother Theresa.
I wish I had the maturity of someone older than ten years.
I wish I had the humor of Gabriel Iglesias.
I wish I had the feet of a fairy.
I wish I had the face of someone else.
I wish I had the manners of a Queen.
I wish I had the heart of the Son of the Big Man Himself:
and yet, I'm happy this way,
with my:
-silly mind
-my awkward conversations
-my pudgy stomach
-my voice that could curdle milk
-my temperment of a person that could rival Attila the Hun
-my actions that resemble that of an eight year old and could try a saint

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poem by Hannah Shier
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