The Mystery of History
Tristan found a binder in our Biology class that belonged to a student who went to BRCC 3 years ago. In the back, I found some poems that he had written. And so, with intense voyeuristic glee, I shall share them.
Coy, flirtatious, beautiful
Is she serious, playful, or sadistic?
What is going on
Should I leave? -Poof, I'm gone-
Whatever, the inspiration's done
I'm left feeling glum
Branna, Goddess of my lost chances
Did I have a chance?
Do I?
Will I?
I sing & dance
Still ignored
I'm bored
So frustrated
Lost
Separated
"I tried to make it my own."
I shouldn't have to.
Tried to stay with my boo.
Everything unglued
Short skirt, perfect hair...
But nothing up there.
Whatever, I want a hot babe
One who ain't afraid
but know how to play spades.
They say that the eyes are the windows of the soul
Through them, anyone can tell if you're broken, tormented, or whole
I don't know where this is going
But I'll just let it go
and keep on flowing
Through my mind
out of time
in time
to the music
and the beat beat beat
of an empassioned yet broken heart
I don't know where this starts
I don't know when it stops
I don't know where it's rolling
My mind seems as if it's slowing
Sticky gears growing
stickier
till they
----------------------------
To fall in love
down a cliff
of passions
in blissful oblivion
to the rocks below
the raging sea
swallows all
and watches as swallows fall
Yeah, she's hot
but her eyes are not
cruel sadistic irony
The fates conspire against me
Forever is impossible now
and this shit's turned sour
Coy, flirtatious, beautiful
Is she serious, playful, or sadistic?
What is going on
Should I leave? -Poof, I'm gone-
Whatever, the inspiration's done
I'm left feeling glum
Branna, Goddess of my lost chances
Did I have a chance?
Do I?
Will I?
I sing & dance
Still ignored
I'm bored
So frustrated
Lost
Separated
"I tried to make it my own."
I shouldn't have to.
Tried to stay with my boo.
Everything unglued
Short skirt, perfect hair...
But nothing up there.
Whatever, I want a hot babe
One who ain't afraid
but know how to play spades.
They say that the eyes are the windows of the soul
Through them, anyone can tell if you're broken, tormented, or whole
I don't know where this is going
But I'll just let it go
and keep on flowing
Through my mind
out of time
in time
to the music
and the beat beat beat
of an empassioned yet broken heart
I don't know where this starts
I don't know when it stops
I don't know where it's rolling
My mind seems as if it's slowing
Sticky gears growing
stickier
till they
----------------------------
To fall in love
down a cliff
of passions
in blissful oblivion
to the rocks below
the raging sea
swallows all
and watches as swallows fall
Yeah, she's hot
but her eyes are not
cruel sadistic irony
The fates conspire against me
Forever is impossible now
and this shit's turned sour