Vacation time
Ah, Mid-Winter break. That week off of school that we get and most other districts don't get. 'Tis nice. .. At least I don't think many other districts get it, I could be wrong though... probably am wrong.. Oh well. I'm off of school for a week, that's all that matters. LAN Party on the 18th, Wednesday. Can't wait. Should be fun, hopefully there'll be more people than last time... um... hm..
Howabout poem time? Haven't done this in a while...
That girl there, sitting by herself
That girl there, in ----what the eff?? there was just a loud thud.. sounded like something hitting the wall... but where exactly did it come from..?... gotta start over now, interupted the poem----
That girl there, sitting by herself,
That girl there, in the back,
That girl there, black t-shirt and jeans,
That girl, there she is...
What is it about that girl,
that draws me so?
There she is, sitting there,
I could talk to her,
but I don't...
Maybe I will,
if I could get enough courage
Maybe I will
if I wasn't scared
Maybe I will,
if...
Wait, where's she going?
Oh, she's gone...
I should have talked to her,
but I didn't
I should have talked to her,
but I was too scared
I should have talked to her,
that girl there...
--did it come from outside???--
Hm, yea. It has been a while... For some reason I don't really like going through and proof-reading my poems, editing them... I feel as if poems come from the heart, and what gets put on paper (or typed out) if the final product... This is how all of my poems have been.. Heck, even most of my essays are like this too =P But yea... Pick apart my poem as you please... I don't know how to finish that sentence.
I should probably get to sleep.
I lost my pencil today.
I lost my pencil today. I've had that pencil since the first day of school, i dunno how much it cost, but my dad bought it. Luckily I found another one in my desk drawer, so I'll have to use that one for a while. I left my old pencil on my desk in history after the test, and I guess I walked out without sticking it in my pocket. Oh well.
I have a poem, I wrote it on Friday while I was supposed to write a childhood/adolescence poem. Here it is:
It is that time..
that place..
Where you cannot think
Where you cannot breath
for fear of being found...You try and hide yourself
but to no prevail
At any moment you could
be given away
sooner or later...
you will be found
and it will all be overbut yet you go on
not willing to give up
why, oh why?
you wanna go,
wanna be free,
but you can't..
for fear of being found.