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And the weight of the world
weighs down on me
Like a ten ton brick
A thousand miles long
And a thousand miles thick

I sometimes want rid of it

Ah yes, to lose myself in happy ignorance

But I am not I
without it
So no,
I shall never quit
Baby come close to me
Because I miss you like death
If death were that song you forgot the name of
Or a really great ****
Or a childhood memory
Yes, I miss you that much.
Swirls of silky crimson and summer green assault her eyes.

Crimson. Green. Crimson. Dash of green. Crimson. Green. Every thorn attacks her with it's painful beauty.

Who knew you could die by such beautiful things?

Death by roses.  A beautiful death for a beautiful woman.

Red roses. Green stems. Ivory skin. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. Red dress. Green stems. Red roses.

Death. Beautiful, terrible death.
Whatever happened to the wisdom of the youth?
Right and wrong, justice and truth?
Adults, they dismiss the thoughts of the youth,
As rash and brash, their ideas of no use.
But to tell you the truth, we must listen to the youth,
For in their simplicity, one will find truth.
Six years ago you said you loved me,
And then you went away
Six years, you thought that I would wait.
Well I am sorry, you are wrong.

I took the next gentlemen who said he loved me,
And I told myself he would suffice,
Because six years ago you said you loved me,
And then you went away.

How long do you think I would wait?
Pacing is some restless state,
Forever? You were wrong.

So I took the next man who loved me,
And he made me what one might call "a wife"
And I have lived if not a happy,
a full and settled life.

Six years ago you said you loves me,
And then you went away
Six years, you thought that I would wait.
Well I am sorry, you are wrong.
I've got a thousand little stabs on my back honey,

and they're all from you dear.

Biting, stabbing, gnawing, clawing me down to the ground

till I go crazy.
Beep. Beep. The alarm, taking me out of bed.
I slowly, reluctantly raise my head.
My stupor is so great that I fear
Mona Lisa’s eyebrows would soon appear.

Oh Muse! Give me the strength to wake!
I cannot stand another minute drowning in this groggy state!

So my dear old desperate muse,
Drowning in his desperate blues,
Called on Zeus to set me free.

There came dear old wonderful Zeus,
And took some of his lightning juice,
And rained it down on me.

Oh! The pain and agony!
But it was the only thing that could set me free
From the unyielding grasp of sleep

Get up! I say!
It’s time to start your pitiful day!

I stumble to the floor,
Grasping desperately for the door,
Triumphant! The gods exclaim!
Your name shall be put up in the morning-risers hall of fame!

To the showers!
I go, with all due speed,
For a shower, a shower is all that I need.

I wash my hair till it resembles a great lion’s mane,
Shiningly shimmering in the shower-induced rain.

The soap, I capture, with a swipe of the wrist,
While it slips and slides in my strong iron fist.

Out of the shower, I sprint to get dressed.
I struggle with myself to pick out what’s best.

Pants or a skirt? I must make my choice.
No! I scream, with a desperate voice

Alas, it was gone, what I wanted to wear!
It was gone with my friends, when I decided to share!

Melancholy I was, but I did not fret.
On with the skirt I said,
And the turtleneck.

All fresh a clean, I realized my real pain.

Oh the hunger!
Oh the ravenous, unforgiving hunger.

I then set out for my next quest.
Food.

I searched in vein for some Froot-Loops.
The were gone last week along with the fruit juice.

Oh hunger! I say.
I must have food now!
But the question is, how?

Pancakes, I know not how to bake,
Oatmeal, I do not know how to make,
Boil, I do not know how to water,
(Or is it water I do not know how to boil? One can never tell)
Eggs, I know not how to create.

“Gram!” I scream with desperation,
“Please, for god’s sake, give me some satiation!”

In she comes, steadfast and true,
With some bacon, and eggs,
For her granddaughter-pooh.

“For me!” I exclaim, with honest delight,
And experience great ecstasy in each and every bite.

Off to school I say, and run to my doom,
Hoping each day, that it would me summer soon.
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