Who You Are Within – You Don’t Have to Try

Every so often you hear a song that really speaks to you (not because of the beat, but because of the message).  Try by Colbie Caillat is a beautiful and inspiring song about self-image.  It reminded me of a poem I wrote a while back called Who You Are Within.

Who You are Within

In the mirror, she stares
hoping that someone would care
how beautiful she looked
because of the amount of time it took.

She smiles and tosses her hair,
wondering what to wear.
She puts on an expensive dress
and shoes that cost no less.

She begins her mission
of putting on lipstick with precision.
Mascara, powder, cream
and jewelry that gleams.
She has it all,
standing gorgeous and tall.

Looking like a star,
she has accomplished her dream.
But appearance may not be
what it seems.
What she really lacks
is self-esteem.

Wipe off that lipstick!
Take off that powdery mess!
If you want success
that’s not the way to go.
All you need to show
is who you are within.




A blanket of darkness,
a bird’s eye view
of a million lights,
a glistening map
of the cityscape,
a glistening glimpse
into people’s lives.

Who are they
and what do they do
in the dark, dark night?
Is it a city of peace,
of the perfect American dinner,
of sweet, sweet slumber,
happiness and romance
all bundled into one?

Or is it a city of scandal,
filled with reckless behavior,
money-driven goals,
drug-crazy addicts,
bang, bang
gunshots and tears?

It’s hard to see
in a blanket of darkness
what the lights signify.
Who are these people
and what do they do
in the dark, dark night?

City at Night
– image taken from Google

Forever 21

I went shopping at Forever 21 today and snatched a great deal on an outerwear/bomber jacket that was originally priced at $44.80, reduced to $30.99, with an additional 40% off, resulting in a final price of $20.22 including tax.  It was awesome and I loved it!  My boyfriend, on the other hand, decided to wait outside the store while I did my shopping.  After all, shopping for clothes isn’t exactly fun for men, as I thought back of a poem I wrote many years ago.  Maybe about a decade ago, I went shopping at Forever 21 and noticed a group of men hanging out by the window, waiting for their girlfriends.  It inspired me to write this comedic poem.  It still cracks me up to this day =)


A row of men
by the windowsill
tweedle dee, tweedle dum
in front of racks and racks
of spaghetti-straps,
low-rise jeans
and cute little tops.

Fanning himself,
he mutters,
“It’s so hot.”

Inside she squeals,
“It’s so hot,”
placing a red top
against her chest
over her black
twirling around
and around,
staring at
her reflection,

her hair up,
her hair down,
it around.

They giggle,
her group of friends,
some in embarrassment,
some in envy,
some in private disgust.

Repeated over and over,
phrases and scenarios
throughout the store.
“It’s so cute.”
“It’s too tight.”
“That’s a deal.”
“Oh, my God!”
“They don’t have my size.”
“Hell, no!”

From day to day,
time to time,
and gossip.

A single girl
grabs a top.
“I got a boyfriend”
it says,
as she blushes
in thought.

“You do not!”
shouts her friend,
“I got a boyfriend,
and he’s hot,”
holding a black top
with just those words.

At the other rack,
a baby blue baby doll
reads, “My boyfriend’s out of town”
as a girl contemplates
naughty thoughts.
Tick tock, tick tock,

Alas she opted
for an army green top
that simply read
“I love my boyfriend.”
Tick tock, tick tock.

A row of men
sitting on the ledge
by the windowsill,
tweedle dee, tweedle dum.

He looks at him.
He looks at him.
He looks at the clock.
He sends a text.
Tick tock, tick tock.

Tweedle dee, tweedle dum.
He looks at him,
He looks at him,
“When is she done!?”
The days of


Forever 21 Store

Not Even the Trees

Steel-toed boots, high-heeled shoes,
K*Swiss, Nike, Doc Martins –

Soles on wet pavement
taking step after step,
long-legged strides,
some in jeans, some in skirts.

Soles on reflected orange lights,
shimmering green, flickering yellow.
What does it mean?
The meaning is lost.

Owners of soles
on the same path.
North, South, East, West,
they converge and diverge,
but it’s still the same path.

Through raindrops on wet pavement,
passed storefronts and passing cars,
longing for merchandise,
longing for the past.

Heads bowed down
staring at puddles
of memory,
of emotion.

The soles walk on,
seeing but not seen,
seen but not seeing,
in the dark, dark night.

The wind whispers
to the trees
and the trees
whisper back,
pondering, contemplating
the meaning
and the meaning
is lost.


Writing Challenge:

Now it’s your turn –

  • This poem was inspired by the song Not Even the Trees  by Hootie & the Blowfish
  • Write a poem based on a song that speaks to you.
  • Enter your poem as a comment below.