Archive for June, 2009

Parental Poison

In my ear the poison is poured
Know I know how old Hamlet felt
In my ear the poison is poured
By my parents, slowly, surly

In my ear the poison is poured
The half-truths, the pessimism
In my ear the poison is poured
Slowly, it gets absorbed

My outlook was once of unbridled joy
Now most of that has gone
A process that may never be undone
Joy has been changed to sadness

‘Come over to play’ is now
‘I will not invite them, they will not come’
‘They are just a little late’ is now
‘They hate me, they will not come’

I need to get back to the path of joy and love
Only escaping them will change me back
Only finding myself will change me back
Only finding another will change me back


She’s Out Of My League

I seriously have no idea why I think this girl would want to go out with me.

For starters she is very pretty (who uses that word anymore anyway?) or as most people these days would say ‘very fit’ and so is not going to want to go out with some ugly git like me. I look at her and just think ‘there is not way somebody as beautiful as that is going to go out with me’.

Secondly she is incredibly popular and is the typical teenager, going out to clubs and stuff, which I simply do not do, and probably never will, so it would be akin to one of the most popular girls going out with one of the least popular. In respect of being outgoing we are polar opposites, I think. I’d only drag her down into not going anything probably, or at least that’s how she’ll see it, so won’t want to go out with me.

Basically, I have no chance. Why do I even bother?

Poor Poetry

In my brain is a collection of thoughts
They consider life, in it’s complexity
And entirety

When I come to write these down
After a while I stop, then I frown
At the rhymes

To put feelings into thoughts
Is difficult enough anyway, it is
Worse when writing down

It misses something in this state
A vital ingredient, only found
In the mind

The complexity lost
The thought no longer profound
What a waste

Categories: Poetry, Thoughts
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