(no subject)
So, a friend of mine gave me some poetry that i wrote about two years ago. reading it, i really dont recognize any of it. and its not bad either...a little angsty for me to write now. im more into existential poetry now. but anyway, tell me what you think.
Beauty is plastic
A rose will always die
Everything's a lie
There is no Romeo
A kiss will never
Heal the slightest wound
No matter how much
Children grow up
Your sweet mother coos
Those monsters you fear
Not under the bed
But outside your window
The real truth I know
To be accepted
You have to conform
Since the time you were born
Color inside the lines
Ignoring the truth
Confirming to the lies
And all hope dies.
theres nothing more weird to me than reading my own poetry, its like stepping back into another realm of emotions, a different time with rich circumstances. its definitely in my style...but i cant figure out why its so foreign to me. maybe because its a little cynical for me. anyway...only twelve more days to go. its so hard doing anything now. working is just torture. i look at what i have to do, then i think 'wow im going to be in australia in less than two weeks' and i get this heavy feeling in my stomach and i need a hug. i have this terrible fear that i wont be missed. but then i truly dont want my absence to hinder anyone. well im feeling a bit feverish. the countdown starts tomorrow. love you all.
Beauty is plastic
A rose will always die
Everything's a lie
There is no Romeo
A kiss will never
Heal the slightest wound
No matter how much
Children grow up
Your sweet mother coos
Those monsters you fear
Not under the bed
But outside your window
The real truth I know
To be accepted
You have to conform
Since the time you were born
Color inside the lines
Ignoring the truth
Confirming to the lies
And all hope dies.
theres nothing more weird to me than reading my own poetry, its like stepping back into another realm of emotions, a different time with rich circumstances. its definitely in my style...but i cant figure out why its so foreign to me. maybe because its a little cynical for me. anyway...only twelve more days to go. its so hard doing anything now. working is just torture. i look at what i have to do, then i think 'wow im going to be in australia in less than two weeks' and i get this heavy feeling in my stomach and i need a hug. i have this terrible fear that i wont be missed. but then i truly dont want my absence to hinder anyone. well im feeling a bit feverish. the countdown starts tomorrow. love you all.