So. I have this new found love of writing little poems. Sometimes they don't even have any correlation with my life. But I feel they are full of emotion and kinda powerful. It's just kinda fun, and I have tons of them scattered all over notebooks and such... Anyways enjoy!
It all just seems like a big joke.
When is someone going to pop out and yell, "you've been punked"
Because there is no way this can be real.
Everything moves in a blur and nothing seems to matter.
I watch as the seconds on the clock turn into minutes, then hours.
I just want something real, something tangible.
As the time winds down I find the difficulty rising.
I am slowly loosing hope, but my disdain for the negativity keeps me afloat.
Maybe I will become a song writer...since I am writing a book it seems like the next plausible step! :) So I can be a dental assistant with an associates degree, a book, a song writer and a closet creative. Bam! Life plan!