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(, Sun 1 Apr 2001, 1:00)
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just for you
Page 47
The angels have fled
I'm alone, crying in bed
my blood sings to me
begging me to set it free
Black devil wings on my back
showing me the things I lack
to be a normal member of the human race
I cry through a veil of velvet lace
Alas my rhyming skills are shit
and my emo poetry sucks a bit
It's a mashup of those angsty words
bobbing in a sea of verbs, like turds
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 11:02, 1 reply, 16 years ago)
I think I would have hurled.
you've missed your calling.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 11:03, Reply)
I went through an angsty stage of writing poetry like that. My mother probably still treasures some of them as blossoming talent.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 11:07, Reply)
she went through her own time of laughing herself senseless at me
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 11:11, Reply)
that she's an author herself. I haven't written any poetry at all since that time.
I stick to what I'm good at.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 11:16, Reply)
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