Why should I write poetry when there are so many other things; when there are Ferraris and part time jobs and mood rings? ...
I picture myself zooming through a world
Where everyone’s words turn into rhyme
So fast their clothes and skin are a mesh of color and time
Like that kindergarten activity where you fill a bottle with multi colored dirt
Or a hyper color t-shirt
A tunnel of color like Bill and Ted
Yellow orange green and psychedelic red
And I hear their voices like little notes
On a xylophone they are quotes
That I've never know
But are more than familiar
I want a man with a boat
I want a girl with a smile
Where's my house in the burbs
With kids and a lawn
I always wanted to date a ball player
How did I get stuck with a brick layer
Does she not love me
Why'd we stop having sex
He's got a crush on my sister.
No present for my birthday
I hate the way she laughs
Why did I get married
My job is a joke
I work with Hairy, Moe, and...
... Larry
My favorite days are the drunk ones
I think my dad hates my mom
If they'd of only loved me more
If they'd a put me in student council
I coulda been an actor
I shoulda been a painter
I need to buy a new book
I love thanksgiving
The holidays could never be too long
Fuck winter
Thank god for the sun
I should start working out
Work eat drink sleep and do it all again
Is this all there is; is this what it's all about?
And no one has the answers
But we all like to dance - er smile
So we'll do it for a while
I don't understand
I can't comprehend
What did he mean when Puck said
If u pardon we will mend
I'm lost. What's the point? When does it end? Why'm I here?
We all are . To love . Different for everyone . All of the above .
So we sink or we soar
A mole or a dove
And there's no in between
But underneath the words there's always time for truth
And behind the alliteration
There's always contemplation
So when I try to address you
I mean to express to you…
My love
Why should I write poetry when there are so many other things; when there are Ferraris and part time jobs and mood rings?
My favorite days are the drunk ones
I think my dad hates my mom
If they'd of only loved me more
If they'd a put me in student council
I coulda been an actor
I shoulda been a painter
I need to buy a new book
I love thanksgiving
The holidays could never be too long
Fuck winter
Thank god for the sun
I should start working out
Work eat drink sleep and do it all again
Is this all there is; is this what it's all about?
And no one has the answers
But we all like to dance - er smile
So we'll do it for a while
I don't understand
I can't comprehend
What did he mean when Puck said
If u pardon we will mend
I'm lost. What's the point? When does it end? Why'm I here?
We all are . To love . Different for everyone . All of the above .
So we sink or we soar
A mole or a dove
And there's no in between
But underneath the words there's always time for truth
And behind the alliteration
There's always contemplation
So when I try to address you
I mean to express to you…
My love
Why should I write poetry when there are so many other things; when there are Ferraris and part time jobs and mood rings?
