(no subject)
I love everyone who reads this journal, I love everyone who comments on this journal, I love everyone whos ever talked to me, smiled at me, or waved at me. But most of all, I love anyone that would slap me in the face for how stupid I've been lately. I need to grow, get over it, change this. In the wise words of Dumb and Dumber, "We're in a hole. Now we've just gotta dig ourselves out."
realizing life is never as bad as it seems is such a sigh of relief.
its time for me to have fun.
heres a poem i wrote a few nights ago. its not my best but ive been trying different styles of writing lately...the results didnt come out as good as i expected. perhaps i should stick to my style...anyway, this ones about the amazing mystery of strangers. im sure you all have had some kind of experience like the one described in this poem....being completely intrigued with a total stranger....
Intriguing Stranger
There’s a boy with a book
That rides the city bus
He might possibly be the one to
Fully comprehend
Each grain
Of my brain.
Or maybe He’ll be just like you.
He never speaks,
I wonder if he’s mute.
Maybe that’s what intrigues me
A boy who never speaks.
He reads his book.
A different one everyday.
I can tell when he likes a line.
For a moment the tips of his fingers trace the ink.
He mouths the words.
I wonder what he loves so much about the line.
How has it touched him.
I wonder if a line can change the world.
If everyone was a boy on a bus with a book.
If no one ever spoke.
If the world was as enticing as the mystery of the boy.
The bus ride only lasts a few brief minutes.
I could walk the distance.
But then I couldn’t watch him
Watching him read,
Watching him think.
Wondering,
If he could possibly be the one to
Fully comprehend
Each grain
Of my brain.
Or maybe he’s just like you.
Samantha Phillips
realizing life is never as bad as it seems is such a sigh of relief.
its time for me to have fun.
heres a poem i wrote a few nights ago. its not my best but ive been trying different styles of writing lately...the results didnt come out as good as i expected. perhaps i should stick to my style...anyway, this ones about the amazing mystery of strangers. im sure you all have had some kind of experience like the one described in this poem....being completely intrigued with a total stranger....
Intriguing Stranger
There’s a boy with a book
That rides the city bus
He might possibly be the one to
Fully comprehend
Each grain
Of my brain.
Or maybe He’ll be just like you.
He never speaks,
I wonder if he’s mute.
Maybe that’s what intrigues me
A boy who never speaks.
He reads his book.
A different one everyday.
I can tell when he likes a line.
For a moment the tips of his fingers trace the ink.
He mouths the words.
I wonder what he loves so much about the line.
How has it touched him.
I wonder if a line can change the world.
If everyone was a boy on a bus with a book.
If no one ever spoke.
If the world was as enticing as the mystery of the boy.
The bus ride only lasts a few brief minutes.
I could walk the distance.
But then I couldn’t watch him
Watching him read,
Watching him think.
Wondering,
If he could possibly be the one to
Fully comprehend
Each grain
Of my brain.
Or maybe he’s just like you.
Samantha Phillips