It's like I'm trapped
in a box that is probably
labelled correctly.
Getting out is hard
once you've already locked
yourself in.
Yesterday someone gave me
a hair pin, but I don't know
how to use it.
____________________________________________________
Real authors, poets, lyricists
could write without feeling so
god
damn
awful
about every word they drop on a page.
The Penguins on Poetry proudly present: A Blog. Dedicated to the creative writings of a small group of young adults full of notions too great to be kept inside.
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Friday, March 30, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
I'm just going to post things I write I guess.
I guess we've already
come to that point
where our memories become
nostalgia
and we reminiscence.
come to that point
where our memories become
nostalgia
and we reminiscence.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)