Idiot's abound in geniusy Intelligence fun and kind Aren't we Though they see us dancing Madly Do they see my machinery Fondly A fool is a tool A genius is an idiot For what life may be bring Who cares lets have fun Hit it..... Make a song
Roses are red, Violets- a somber hue, my love is dead... "How?", you might ask.. Well.. He tripped and fell head over heels for you. Leaving me feeling quite blue.
I mean I never was dumped.... I was the one to dump... only because most of ex's didn't have any likeings to me anymore. When I was little a friend of mine said that the boy I liked was cheating on me with like fifteen other girls. I never listened... This one guy and I were together since I was seven. I decided to secretly break up with him after a few years because of his abusive actions. I hardly got to see him so I couldn't get time to break up... After seeing him for the last time.. I told him that I was breaking up with him, he responded saying, "I forgot all about you.. I have a girl now.." .. And his friend kept on asking me why I broke up with him... (he was also there) I said, "First of all I haven't seen him in two years, he forgot about me, and now has another girl." .. His friend kept on asking though.... I guess I never truely loved him anyways..
There isn't really much of a poem Just a couple of lines or so that depict how ****** I feel, how weak I am, and how naïve I've become To be used, chewed, and spat back out Given to another to have it done all over again How did that saying go? Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, thrice is a pattern? Well, let's hope a third doesn't appear. It's bad enough I was used as sloppy seconds. I suppose some apples don't fall too far from the trees they surround themselves with.
Some things aren't sad They aren't painful or grievous Perhaps they're just ****** Like, it's baffling to even admit How could something so idiotic... Just slip past your senses?
she loves your poetry, ok you think, cause you just love her his-stories of her/here life, the children, the musician, nominate her as daughter, her poetry and her yay’s spontane-us, we are fan fanatical of each other
and she describes us perfectly -
“So I am an idiot standing in a sad storm of letters that are unrelenting”
ok you think, not bad, for surely only the most precious things in life are unrelenting
He was someone who was thrown into the bland beige walls of his “school” Interminable hours spent staring at the shining blue beyond his reach... Only to be comforted by the violent wisps streaming from his parents mouths puncturing his heart His vacant black mind only able to realize that he couldn’t Reach that blue Ever He could stare at its inviting villas But never be….
Until one day he took one of those many knives From the drawer and his heart And ran over to the blue Piercing his soul with all those words Painting over the lovely blue with his deepest red And before he closed his eyes he could hear the bluebirds and cardinals sing