Monday, March 26, 2007


Ugh, I found some more of my really bad high school poetry. I think several of these were assignments for school, especially the first one, but most were just side notations in a notebook I kept. Found them on one of my old disks.

You know, they may be bad, but at least I did them, at least I did something. I've always been proud of my struggles with words and language, sort of like my own marathon.

Back To School

Alarm clock rings.
Come on, sleepy,
Kick into gear.

Today's your first day.
Off you go now.

Shoes on,
Comb your hair.
Hey, dudes!
Off we go
Oh, yeah, school.
Love it.


There's nothing more I dread
Than to live without you.
No bays upon my head
Instead of you would do.
I would rather to die
Than be lost from your sight.
And with a cracked sigh
Something more, my heart might.

It is easy to dream,
My world consists of you.
To have thee not I now seem
As real as I can do.
You're like evasive wind
Never resting to stop.
Because without the kind,
Your love, from Earth I drop.


Who's in charge here?
I wonder.
From cheek falls a tear
In slumber.
If I'm your true love
Why condemn?
All the help above
Doesn't bend.
I'm not saying give in.
(Be strong.)
Be nice and. . . understand
The road's long.
Don't dominate
Give and take.
From the past you ache,
But see me,
Meek and yearning
To be free.


Listlessly letting a lethal lethargy
Overtake oneself, outliving the ostensible
Vigorous void of verily vibrancy,
Encompassing every emotional embodiment.


I think I know myself, at times.
Then things get out of hand
And all is not sublimed.
What am I? And
Why do I live?
The questions can't be answered
By no one except The One.
Why won't He answer?
I am wondering why!
I will have to wait
Till why becomes when,
Then all will be answered. . .
In the end.


I looked into the mirror
and saw me,
As I expected to.
But then I looked harder
Not wanting to believe,
Not believing!
I looked away and cried.
If I am to look again,
I will punch the mirror
And the man I see.
The faultless mirror is there,
Obvious to everyone but me.


I'm still trying to live right
With all of my might.
On the outside, me is not me,
Inside it's struggling to
Be free.
My front is set up,
As deadly as a crazy cub,
Deadly to me,
For, you see,
If my front is there
No one will care
And I will not be
Let down
And made to frown.


"Have you ever felt bad?"
I ask her, in the future,
As she looks upon my face sad.
"And were powerless to it?"
She looks at me without a smile,
Something I'll miss, more than a bit.
"I sit here thinking, wondering,
What did I do to scare you?"
As she looks without a word at my blundering,
Thoughts race, ideas flow, holding tears at bay.
Then I wonder aloud, before I can stop,
"For me, will it always be this way?"

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