The ground is shaking; I stumble and shake too. But the ground is steady, so what do I do?

Angels walk among us. No, not in the way we think.

The six word story turned into a 16 lined poem.

Looking inside, what do you find? A wind, a wall, a whisper?

Who am I? I don't know this girl - I don't think she knows either.

Whether you are just a newborn or an elderly or someone in between, you are living. And I have hopes for you. I have dreams for you. Because you are you.

"Do you need a hug?" I ask. A hug is comfort; a hug is affection. And when I ask you, it might be because I need one too, but I'm too afraid to ask.

I hadn't realized that by saying fine I had been lying to myself and others. Maybe I had. But I hadn't realized how much it hurt.

Look at my mask, the one I have worn so much it's wearing down. Don't look too close, though; don't look through the cracks because then you'll see my tears.

Sometimes words don't get my messages across clearly. The way I speak sometimes confuses my listeners. I want what I say to make sense, so I sometimes have to try again. Did that make sense?

One, two, three see Four, five, six for me - which one will I be?

Sometimes a day can seem horribly wrong. But, really, all you need is one good thing to turn it around - something to hope for, something to be thankful for. What will you find happiness in?

A little singing blue bird, looking for a place to heal and rest. She sings and soars even though her wings are broken.

What do you see when you look in the mirror? Do you see the wonderful you that I see? Or, I wonder, do you see yourself the way I see myself?

Just a blurb about facing the world of worrying.

That's what they say to me, but little do they know, that's not all there is to me.