Friday Aug 26, 2005

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More bad poetry today.

We Who Can't Forget

Could I ever presume
You might ever need me?
I'm not special really.
Yet this is my doom.

But how much I need you!
You make my life better,
Help me see things matter.
Now what am I to do?

You've flown from my embrace
And left me little hope.
I think somehow I'd cope,
But I'd have to forget your grace.

Why do I write bad poetry? Because I know that if I try to write bad poetry I can surely succeed. But if I try to write good poetry I might fail.

Yay it's Friday! And payday!


kiss
venice:
I love coming home at 5 in the morning. I used to do that on the weekends in college all the time. I would be drinking wine with my friends or something, and then suddenly we would realize the sky was getting light. I just love night time, and being with people at night, so much more than the day, that when it's a weekend and I have that opportunity, it's hard to let it go.

I was a loser in junior high. I doubt anyone was pining for me then.

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