haha! *shakes head*`
Was going through some of my poems and such and came across one i wrote for creative writing class. Everyone in the class wrote down a "secret" you could make it up, or it could actually be a secret of yours. The one I picked was about seeing march of the penguins like 4 times and really liking penguins, so this is what i wrote:
The Movie of my Dreams
By: Julie Neuman
It starts at seven, my friend said
Hastily getting ready after making my bed
Shaking nervously as I drove to the theater
Stepped out the car door, felt my knees getting weaker
Could it add up, would it be enough?
To see the penguins which I’ve always loved
My friend didn’t know, wouldn’t understand
About my favorite feathered friend that lived on ice land
The screen filled with light, the movie began
Knew right off, penguins weren’t typical birds from the sand
March of the Penguins stole my heart
But by doing so tore me apart
I couldn’t see it just once, or just twice
Hiding my secret, trying to convince myself I was right
By the fifth time I saw it, I knew I was obsessed
My friend couldn’t understand why I was depressed
“I never see you anymore, what’s wrong?” my friend asked
But keeping this secret would forever be my task
So I smiled and replied nothing
Knowing quite frankly March of the Penguins was something
My friend came unexpected, walked into my room
I could scream and shout but not hide what was shown
Posters, stuffed animals, movie logos and such
Even special March of the Penguin fruit punch
Silence crept up, a shocked look remained
“Get out!,” I yelled, my expression pained
“You have problems,” my friend said leaving
But I still saw March of the Penguins again that evening
And now I lurk here, in the darkness of the movie
Smiling as I watch the penguins secretly
“I love you,” I said as I touched the screen
“Sit down, I’m trying to watch the movie!,” the audience yelled at me
The truth is however weird I may seem
March of the Penguins is the movie of my dreams
The Movie of my Dreams
By: Julie Neuman
It starts at seven, my friend said
Hastily getting ready after making my bed
Shaking nervously as I drove to the theater
Stepped out the car door, felt my knees getting weaker
Could it add up, would it be enough?
To see the penguins which I’ve always loved
My friend didn’t know, wouldn’t understand
About my favorite feathered friend that lived on ice land
The screen filled with light, the movie began
Knew right off, penguins weren’t typical birds from the sand
March of the Penguins stole my heart
But by doing so tore me apart
I couldn’t see it just once, or just twice
Hiding my secret, trying to convince myself I was right
By the fifth time I saw it, I knew I was obsessed
My friend couldn’t understand why I was depressed
“I never see you anymore, what’s wrong?” my friend asked
But keeping this secret would forever be my task
So I smiled and replied nothing
Knowing quite frankly March of the Penguins was something
My friend came unexpected, walked into my room
I could scream and shout but not hide what was shown
Posters, stuffed animals, movie logos and such
Even special March of the Penguin fruit punch
Silence crept up, a shocked look remained
“Get out!,” I yelled, my expression pained
“You have problems,” my friend said leaving
But I still saw March of the Penguins again that evening
And now I lurk here, in the darkness of the movie
Smiling as I watch the penguins secretly
“I love you,” I said as I touched the screen
“Sit down, I’m trying to watch the movie!,” the audience yelled at me
The truth is however weird I may seem
March of the Penguins is the movie of my dreams