Change?
I've made a New Year Resolution to blog more and be more like everyone else. I've decided to talk more about life and the weather...
Screw that
When I grow I'm I wanna be a bastard. It doesn't mean I won't do the right thing, it means I'll be more annoying and I'll break a few more rules, insulting people and such. I mean, I've already got a cane for whacking. I mean, many characters have been bastards and they save lives. Right, too fictional.
I need something interesting, a problem, a climax to this thing you call a life. Something to wake up in the morning thinking. Trills to get going. I can't seem to find trouble in life. My problem is I have no problems.
Apart from being an annoyance and seeking problems, here's a poem I wrote within five minutes. Don't worry, this is to keep the bored entertained.
Screw that
When I grow I'm I wanna be a bastard. It doesn't mean I won't do the right thing, it means I'll be more annoying and I'll break a few more rules, insulting people and such. I mean, I've already got a cane for whacking. I mean, many characters have been bastards and they save lives. Right, too fictional.
I need something interesting, a problem, a climax to this thing you call a life. Something to wake up in the morning thinking. Trills to get going. I can't seem to find trouble in life. My problem is I have no problems.
Apart from being an annoyance and seeking problems, here's a poem I wrote within five minutes. Don't worry, this is to keep the bored entertained.
Untitled In Five
The book is closed at sight,
But you try as hard as you might,
You think you can read through,
There is no logic in what you do.
The butterfly is not known,
Because its weight contrasts a stone,
But for its art upon those wings,
Or the unheard song it sings.
Behind a door, it will show all,
Even though it is just a wall,
The fact is something is something,
And what does not exist is nothing.
If you chose to read at first glance,
You might as well don't even dance,
'Cause you might fall on top your nose,
If you walk with both eyes close.
The book is closed at sight,
But you try as hard as you might,
You think you can read through,
There is no logic in what you do.
The butterfly is not known,
Because its weight contrasts a stone,
But for its art upon those wings,
Or the unheard song it sings.
Behind a door, it will show all,
Even though it is just a wall,
The fact is something is something,
And what does not exist is nothing.
If you chose to read at first glance,
You might as well don't even dance,
'Cause you might fall on top your nose,
If you walk with both eyes close.