Marginal Error

If you want to sit down with me

And discuss the marginal error,

You’ll soon find it hard to believe

That your conscience is made up of terror.

Your friend would likely kill you

To seize a million bucks,

What else would he be willing to do

If he was down a bit on his luck?

We make these dangerous choices

That will claim our lives one day

So Mr. Reaper, we sing to the voices

“That’s God” some people will say.

But whether it’s God or whether it’s not

The marginal error, has only one to be off.


By: Cameron Ponce

Dream Key

A dream key can save all souls of the dark,

Like a skeleton key, master of arts.

Dreamers are born, not just made like a tart.

With the key they see, all evils at part.

All paths are foreseen, and the sea, a dream.

Don’t tend to have fear, this key is pristine.

Have good faith that it will serve, slave, and clean.

Dream keys can dream, an inceptor’s regime.

A dreamer will gleam with fire in their eye,

But a wielder will breeze through center fight.

A god, deity, a great man alike.

The philosopher’s stone, hard to defy.

Dream keys exists in a realm unalike.

If you meet Mr. Riddler, death do part.

-Sonnet, Free Verse

By: Cameron Ponce

Speed Demons

First is the worst, and second can attest.

Third is the best, and the worst to the rest.

Fourth will be seen, but forgotten too fast.

Fifth could be sixth, seventh, or last.

The name of the game is swift to the test,

Wit should be quick, but speed demons will last.

-Free Verse

By: Cameron Ponce

Free Bird

Fly or flee, flight for fun.

Oh little bird, oh what have you won?

The sky is the limit, but even for you,

Height is a factor, Oxygen.. food.

Fly too low, and you’re bound to be maimed,

Fly too little, and you’re bound to be tamed.

The sky’s not the limit, just a cage from above.

Fly free bird, oh fly away dove.

– Free Verse

By: Cameron Ponce

Money Machine

Distant vibrations pattern on the floor.

Did it make a noise? It did for sure.

Will you feed, or will you be fed?

Will you choose to bleed, or will you be bled?

The Money Machine, will sure deplore.


By: Cameron Ponce

Ode To Mr. Bennington

Were people simultaneously numb?

When they heard the bang and the blot,

That didn’t stop beating on drums

With the sinister plot in the lyrics

A new divide, he shouted and sung

He was one step closer to bleedin’ it out,

Afraid of what he’d become?

In the end he was in a castle of glass

Then burned it down, a faint spirit to pass

“Mr. Bennington, what have you done?”


By: Cameron Ponce