*gives in*
I actually wrote a pretencious poem about pretencious teenage poetry when i was 15 years old. I think it's quite good considering, but then again I am still a teenager...


"The Beast"

Pretencious Beast!
Thou shalt know him from his number...
twixt 13 and 20.

Such a Beast, twill destroy yet build!
twill lie yet utter pure truth!

He will never, ever, allow himself to be the same as the other different ones.
And even now, he falls back, rebellion automatically a conformity.

"Woh, what a great thought... Never before has such a thing been thought..."
in his mind, sure. In others? well, only
twixt 13 and 20.

He wakes up, at the unluckiest time.
He likens it to a creation, yet little does he know...
His sleep? his 'life' before?
He may forget the dreams, sure... but have they forgotten him?

Now, he listens to strange music...
A tangled mess of electricity, and kinetical energy, and voices...
The music blocks these thoughts, and many more besides...

"Look at this... it's like a whole new world!"
in his mind, sure. In others? well, only
twixt 13 and 20.
(Hazhar, Thu 11 Aug 2005, 16:10, Reply)