|
sitting here staring at the wall the page the people i can’t help but wonder why. sitting here listening to the silence the noise the laughter i can’t help but wonder why. sitting here tasting the hostility the fear the pity i can’t help but wonder why. sitting here feeling the avoidance the hate the pain i can’t help but wonder why. sitting here i wonder what you’re doing now what you’re thinking and i can’t help but wonder why. sitting here i wonder where you are how you’re doing and i can’t help but wonder why. sitting here i wonder if you’re happy if you’re guilt-free and i can’t help but wonder why. sitting here i wonder if you know what you’ve done to me to us to the world as i see it and i can’t help but wonder why. sitting here i can’t help but wonder if you ever think of me. because sitting here i can’t help but think of you. |
|
i dunno, i'm bored. :) blahhh..... hi again. i haveee a headache. ouch. :( |
|
I am a colored pencil. You may use me all you want, But I will only mark your paper – your life. On the surface, I am a colored stick, With the words of a brand. Strip the paint off, And I become a product of Mother Nature. And yet, beneath the wooden casing, I am pure. Although I am only one, I bring color to your world. Yet, when I’m worn down to a stub, You throw me in the trash And I’m replaced with someone new. You don’t even give me a chance to say “goodbye”. It doesn’t seem fair to me, But it’s perfectly normal to you – Because, to you, all I am, And all I will ever be, Is a single Colored pencil, Now forever gone From your memory. |
|
I am very bored, Bored and going quite insane. Need something to do. Running in the rain Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. Feed me heaven’s tears. It’s one-percent milk With Honey Nut Cheerios. My breakfast today. (HI BRANDON! :P) |
|
Walk to my locker, Between Marcus and Jess, Below nobody. Twirl the lock clockwise; To the first number you go. Stop. Counter-clockwise, Pass the first, Now to the second. Stop. Clockwise again, Last one, the third. Stop. Yank on the lock. Opened? If not then try again. And again. If no amount of yanking Or punching works, Go get The Sam. He’s invincible. He’ll get that locker open, Guaranteed. Sam is invincible. |
|
Frisbee in P.E… Blood gushing from my head… Ambulance sirens… Screeching tires… Twenty-six stitches, and seven broken ribs… My parents say we’re broke… Punctured lung, I can’t breathe… I lie there… In a tunnel, walk to the light… Rejected. Feel the burn… |
|
Don’t let the walls cave in on you. Everything’s gonna be alright if you Take that chance, bend the rules, even for once. Push yourself to the limit. Let nobody stop you, just Close your eyes, let go, and Learn how to fly. If this is what life is, then It comes at much too high a cost. Sacrifice. Sacrifice. It comes at much too high a cost. If this is what life is, then Learn how to fly. Close your eyes, let go, and Let nobody stop you, just Push yourself to the limit. Take that chance, bend the rules, even for once. Everything’s gonna be alright if you Don’t let the walls cave in on you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be. I live in guilt-ridden jealousy, since You’ve become a hero to me. You, the naturally smart, get better grades than I, the Asian. You, the born athlete, are unequivocally the best at what you do. You, the quick-witted, always have something to say. You, the kind and generous, give, but rarely take. I know I don’t fit your perfect standards. I’m sorry. Forgive me. Forgive me. I’m sorry. I know I don’t fit your perfect standards. You, the kind and generous, give, but rarely take. You, the quick-witted, always have something to say. You, the born athlete, are unequivocally the best at what you do. You, the naturally smart, get better grades than I, the Asian. You’ve become a hero to me. I live in guilt-ridden jealousy, since You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be. |
|
Sitting here In this “quiet” study hall, I really need to go To the bathroom. In this “quiet” study hall, The silence is too loud to bear. I go to the bathroom So I’ll feel better. The silence is too loud to bear, And I try to find a way out. So I’ll feel better, I go to the bathroom. |
|
I ask you why It ended like this, But you don’t know why. I know it’s a lie; I know there’s something amiss. I ask you why. You said “goodbye,” You said I’m someone you’d miss, But you don’t know why. There are no more tears for me to cry. Of the old times, I reminisce. I ask you why. I look you eye-to-eye, And ask you why no more we kiss, But you don’t know why I wait for your reply. Why did we end like this? I ask you why, But you don’t know why. |
|
In Potts’ class today, We’re having a huge, massive Macbeth exam. That’s why I spent most of last night, this morning, and all of break…doing “The Cram”. Now my brain feels like it just might decay. I really hope I do okay. At least it’s not chem, where we must calculate in the gram. Oh, how I wish I had the brains of Sam. Then maybe, to this exam my grades will not fall prey. “What is a possible theme?” – question number twenty-three, I kinda understand, sort of. The choices: “a. Macbeth”, “b. the murderers, those three”, And “c. Unrequited love”. But wait! Here’s another one! Can the answer possibly be “d. none of the above”? I finally arrive home, sweaty and late for dinner. Jumping on me, my dog seems to ask, “Where have you been?” I tell him, “Sorry, boy. I was running laps around the block, trying to get thinner.” That said, I give him a little scratch under the chin. And it might just be my imagination, but I can almost swear I see him grin. But now, it’s a quarter to nine. To make some food, I should probably begin. So, for a nice, cold smoothie, some random stuff from the fridge, I combine. There are frozen bananas in the freezer. Oooh! And here’s a bunch of grapes off our grapevine! My dog stares at me, puzzled, thinking I’ve positively gone crazy. Not knowing what to do, he starts a high-pitched whine. “Oh, Landon. You know me – I’m just plain old lazy.” Into the blender, these things I pour. Yea, this is Jamba Juice, homemade and hardcore. This Shakespearian sonnet Is my very last poem. After this is done, then I’ll be all set. Since nothing seems to rhyme with “poem”, i’ll just randomly announce that my “daddy” is Teyssier, Noam. Once I finish this thing, I’ll start my last poetry explication. And once that’s done too, some relief to myself I’ll bring. As soon as that one’s finished as well, I shall hold for myself a little celebration. Although I will still have “Section C. Advertisement Analysis” to start, I’ll have the greater majority of this poetry project done. When this whole project is over with, I’ll head on over to the piano and play some Mozart. Or, perhaps, I’ll take my dog out for a run. But now that this last sonnet is drawing to a close… I’m so grief-stricken, I must go blow my nose. |
|
escaping boredom, running like a madman, yet succumbing to it. it takes me hostage, puts me in a dark room, with no method of escape. so i sit here, in my room, dark as the night sky, in front of my laptop, watching the clock tick by. the seconds crawl past, prolonging my loneliness. those numbers in the bottom-right corner are taunting me. i stare them down. they suck the life out of me, the spirit, the hope, the desire to live. i suppose i should stop looking. boredom holds me hostage, not letting me go. the cold floor, the cold wall pressing against my back, the cold air. my cold heart. and in this blackness, in the coldness, i am held hostage. i, the madman, am a hostage. boredom, please let me go. i'm dying, from the inside out. my heart is held hostage. it's beginning to die. the beats are growing feeble. let me free. |
|
0 Comments
Mood: lifeless - life is - : boring. and this poem was impromptu and unorganized. oh wellll XD |