'Tis summer I yearn
When sun faithfully burns
'Tis green grass I covet
When shall winter turn?
The sun I see when light wakes morn
Eyes created, long lashes born
And meant to see all that I love
But when flakes fall my heart is torn.
The young, they cry, and waves, they peel
'Tis the water I need, the salt I feel
My true meaning and reason why
Some things a dream and others real.

This is going to hurt
A little and
I see you fret
You flick your cigarette
You seem afraid, this
Game we've played it's
Safe to say the
Look on your face is
One of knowing
I will abuse you
It's too late 'cause
I made you wait you
Have to have it
Got you now you're
Going blue you
Want me to.

She is nothing but an
Incubus for self-pity she's
Pathetic she sits and she
Creates senseless thoughts
And she wails and rots from
The inside out and without
A doubt she will dig
Deep into this hole where
There are others to blame for
Her obvious flaws
She drowns herself senseless
And I'm just in awe there's
No excuse for this
Amiss I
Have no empathy for you
You disgust me.

So tired of
Swearing I see
A light at the end
Of this god-forsaken tunnel but
Each time I've almost reached it
It goes out and
I toss and turn at night
Try to turn this around but
It is stuck in reverse I
Think I've got a handle but
Each time it all slips away
And at the end of the day I
Know there is not a way it is
Hopeless.

I am so ashamed
That I can't shake
The feeling you gave me
All such a mistake I'm
Wretched for falling
For seductive delusions
A catch-22, a drunken
Confusion in which
You have been spellbound
And me, exposed bare
I just want to be free of you
Such a useless affair I'm
Tearing my hair out over you.

Why
Am I always standing at the crossroads?
There has got to be a reason I am star-crossed
I am
Punished, there has to be
There is but
I do not have much time I
Have to match
The reason, the rhyme with
My inescapable fate but
I am standing at the crossroads
A minute too late

I
Am an English Major.
Numbers **** ***,
And I keep trying to pass it
But I'm stuck in this class.
My homework's due in three hours
But I'm rhyming instead,
I
Am an English Major
Who would rather be dead.
Or go to bed.
Or eat bread.
Just not do math.
****