Monday, August 10, 2009

So tell me all your problems; I was killing before killing was cool. You're so cool, you're so cool, so cool!

crazy breaths;
your silence deepens
then lessens


i am lost
and afraid,
no one's there


you are gone,
scared away,
and i am alone

[Kill All Your Friends--My Chemical Romance]
Just a little impromptu poetry from yours truly.
I find I like that style. Ya know, random stanzas, no capitolization? It adds a certain feeling to the poem.
Okay, so I must admit, I'm much better at writing stories than writing poetry (which I kinda suck at), but I really do love poetry. Reading it, writing it...especially the more meaningful stuff. I especially love the one on Nat's grophland profile:
Anyway, where did you get it?
I think everyone should be able to express themselves freely. I may not be good at poetry, but I still want to write it and have people read it and have it mean something. I don't want to be judged, simply heard. Of course, that's hypocritical. I admit it's bad, but I don't want any negative feedback, only positive. Doesn't really make sense.
So...since I'm feeling lonely...I'll share one of my most personal, longest, and worst poems. See if you can guess what it's about. It's not hard.
You’ve called me unoriginal
and, you know, I think it’s true.
So, in my despair,
I’ve made a poem just for you.

No knocks to this poem,
there’s no other like it.
You really can’t call me
unoriginal now.

And what it lacks in flow,
it makes up for in truth.
So what if my words don’t rhyme,
so what if I lose the beat,
at least I’m not you,
the Pretend Friend.

I used to think I’d hate to lose you,
because you were just so kind,
and I thought you would understand
everything I said.
I figured you would know
what I meant
when I said I needed your help.

And you did, I mean, you really did,
don’t get me wrong.
My best friend, but little did I know
you were the Pretend Friend.

Your fa├žade is good, I will admit,
I believed every word you said.
I was convinced, just like we all were,
all you said was true.
But then, but then, what happened,
my friend?
You changed for the worse,
and made me believe
I couldn’t trust
the people I loved.
You convinced me you were
better than them, and of course,
of course you were.
You’re you, after all,
the Pretend Friend.

But conceit, my friend,
began to show through
and then I realized,
how could I side with you?
You were wrong, I knew,
against everything I know.
And, you know, need of power
can only go so far.
Understand this: I’ll side with my friends,
and protect them, but what about you?
I cannot stand by, but what about you?
I know when I’m right, but what about you?
Of course you won’t, you can’t,
you’re the Pretend Friend.

Now look here, see here,
I can let you go.
You won’t hurt me anymore.
So go ahead, threaten me,
tell me I’m wrong.
Someday you’ll realize
I don’t need you.

Forgive me for the lack of flow,
I’ve never been much
of a poet, you know.
But I threw in a rhyme or two
just for you.
And for you,
it’s the last thing I’ll ever do.
Can you guess who this poem's directed to?

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