The Poetry Spot discussion

A poem from my book
WHERE I MEET MYSELF
Do the eyes of time read my story from the beginning to the end?
O sorry I thought the rainbow was a bridge with vivid sands.
I slip and fall off the rainbow's bridge every day.
I know your land is so far but I stretch my hand.
My fingers get icy though the sun is not dead.
I am in a waiting room where I meet myself.
Did my story begin from my birth or a bud's birth in a spring's green lace?
An infant bud grows to be a pale leaf in one autumn day.
It seems I lose my steps in the world's lands.
If not you, who will teach me to read the world's map.
Is the rainbow's edge too far for me to stand?
My story gets a chair in the waiting room where I meet myself.
Should I save my poem for a rainy day?

A poem from my book. This one is from 2016, when I was 12.
YOU'RE MORE BETTER
You’re more better than music
That stays in my head even after it fades.
You’re more costly than gold
To hold on the brim of the rim
Of a red ribbon hat.
Like a big rainbow sun, you shine
On the line that is bright,
And I hold it tight.
It isn’t something to ponder,
For I couldn’t find another like you,
Not even a thousand miles yonder.
You're more beautiful than a diamond.
You’re more wetter than waves
That crash across the shore and roar.
More precious than the silver river,
Magenta trees, and the keys to bees
That buzz even louder than the flowers
That bear delightful showers
To satisfy our minds and eyes for hours.