I watched them come
Measuring tapes in hand
Microscopes
And little notes
Trying to determine
The perfect fit
As the rest stood
On pedestals
Of acheivements
And failures
(But we don't mention those)
A showcase
Who would place?
And who would lose
Would they choose
The one on the left
Or the one on the right?
The one with the past
Or the one who got past
Their strict system
But if you missed em
Consider yourself lucky
Until the next round.
Hundreds of blank pages. Fresh pens. Now... What to write?
My brain is just exploding... Thoughts, emotions, ideas, but somehow, there might as well be an ocean between my brain and hand. For all of my attempts, I still have nothing to show. I want write something that would cause someone to think... To question... To wonder... To dream. But I feel stuck. The thought of sitting and writing intimidates me.
I found a quote that aptly describes what I am experiencing...
"Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead."
Better keep some band aids handy... This could get messy...
Sometimes I wonder about the raindrops
Why they fall so fast and hard
What is the rush?
What's their hurry?
No matter their speed
The world ends up wet
Slick and slippery
Everything becomes a challenge in the rain
Everything becomes a pain
Rainboots, raincoat, and umbrellas
What a hassle
And when it's raining
Sometimes we forget
That after rain
After a thunderstorm
The world starts to shine
It's revived
It comes alive
So instead of staying inside
When the sky turns grey
Why don't we run outside
Why don't we get a little wet
After all
A little water never hurt anyone.
Technology's finest
The crowning glory
But let me tell you a story:
Girl buys computer
Computer works and then dies
Girl needs to buy new computer
Girl cries.
For being a time saving device
You could have given me some advice
That for however much I spend
That's how much I'll depend
On your functionality
And if I get back to reality
I will see all the mistakes I made with you
But what can I do?
Off to B&H Superstore
So after spending once
I can spend some more
Pajamas hidden
Under colored skirts
(I wonder which
Is more offensive...)
Cuz the bird who tries
To fly the coop
The one who defies
Is not wont to return.
The murder of
Black feathered ravens
Don't look lightly
At the bird
Who doesn't fulfill
"Birds of a feather
Flock together"
Who is this stranger
Bringing us danger
Unwanted attention
That begs for intervention
But this little birdie
Sings.a different tune
To us, it sounds
Rather off-tune
And clearly she is off her rocker
So we better knock her
Or else
