02-27-2011, 04:28 AM
Now for the morning tea,
'cause I'm always up early
with my excuse of a reality.
So, I've been thinking,
passively hoping as insipid motions permeate,
humming to the beast that sleeps
so peacefully
in wait
for waits -
what is the importance?
What is the point of wasting so much life
on waiting?
Supposedly, one must make something
worth chasing.
From the beginning
I've had to convince myself,
keep convincing everyone else
that I did good,
made the right choice
for better or worse.
Let me tell you,
some teens know jack-shit
about themselves or the other they should be privy to
before they so conclusively commit.
Now, isn't this fun?
The breaking down of boundaries?
This is where I feel like one of our precious newbies
with their introspective, diary-prose, page spew.
No form, no rhythm, narrow points of view
line
break
and
vent -
no offense.
Memo:
Follow topic.
So, I will tell myself again
that I'm doing the 'right thing';
I'm not a victim or a martyr,
I am working, holding,
nay, raising up
my end of the deal
for eternity -
the deal I struck for change,
challenge, summer love,
and as my 'responsible', 'logical'
'moral' justification
for running away.
This was like a completely regressive vent for me; refreshing to write, but at the same time I feel I'm not doing the idea justice poetically at all as this is basically how it fell out. I've lost perspective on it now, so outside views are needed!
'cause I'm always up early
with my excuse of a reality.
So, I've been thinking,
passively hoping as insipid motions permeate,
humming to the beast that sleeps
so peacefully
in wait
for waits -
what is the importance?
What is the point of wasting so much life
on waiting?
Supposedly, one must make something
worth chasing.
From the beginning
I've had to convince myself,
keep convincing everyone else
that I did good,
made the right choice
for better or worse.
Let me tell you,
some teens know jack-shit
about themselves or the other they should be privy to
before they so conclusively commit.
Now, isn't this fun?
The breaking down of boundaries?
This is where I feel like one of our precious newbies
with their introspective, diary-prose, page spew.
No form, no rhythm, narrow points of view
line
break
and
vent -
no offense.
Memo:
Follow topic.
So, I will tell myself again
that I'm doing the 'right thing';
I'm not a victim or a martyr,
I am working, holding,
nay, raising up
my end of the deal
for eternity -
the deal I struck for change,
challenge, summer love,
and as my 'responsible', 'logical'
'moral' justification
for running away.
This was like a completely regressive vent for me; refreshing to write, but at the same time I feel I'm not doing the idea justice poetically at all as this is basically how it fell out. I've lost perspective on it now, so outside views are needed!


It just sounds kind of strange. Did you write "tea" because it rhymes with "reality", or "reality" because it rhymes with "tea"?