Just a lonely lad,
Just a sorry sad,
Just a mixed-up mad,
Just a fucking fad,
Just a has-been had.
First day of Uni he's a happy boy,
Fourth day of Uni he's some girl's toy,
Tenth day of Uni his life's sucked of joy,
Now everything he sees he just wants to destroy,
All your fault.
So he's doing things that his heart can't condone,
Trying to make up for the fact that he's alone,
Doing things that others have already outgrown,
Every night waiting for your call on the telephone,
It won't come.
He sees people he knows but he doesn't even wave,
Sometimes he smiles, just to be brave,
But underneath that front, he's ready to cave,
Inside his mind he's just rant and rave,
Never be happy again.
Surround him with people and he'll just withdraw,
Finds all the social chitchat a bloody bore,
And even when he finds himself at Hell's maw,
It's himself he'll rely on, his own personal law,
Doesn't even care.
He pretends to follow the latest craze,
Hides his thoughts behind a distant gaze,
Or maybe his mind's running through a maze,
Just making motions going through the days,
Staying alive for what.
He copes by buying games to play,
Just living his life from day to day,
If someone asks, he's doing okay,
Can't find a way to let out what he wants to say,
So he writes a rhyme.
- Oliver Jiang
2nd of June, 2010
New Essay Alert
5 weeks ago
4 comments:
I find it a little surprising, that if there's such self-awareness, this understanding hasn't translated into action. I don't have the credentials to lecture anyone on this issue, and I actually empathise quite a lot, but I do think emotional outpourings that (apparently) lead to nothing ought to be avoided. By the way, I've intentionally made my comment rather vague lol.
There was a boy named OJ
Who played games all day.
All day he'd play,
Gaming his day away,
Til he shouted in dismay,
"Oh, my exam's today!"
So he kept the keyboard at bay,
And somehow found a way
To study til his hair's gray,
And get a mark that's OK.
You'd think he'd stay
Less lazy, but nay,
He remained society's fray.
Then some shit called him gay,
And his friends yelled "HEY!
WATCH WHAT YOU SAY!
YOU BIG FUCKING CLICHE!"
That dick WILL pay!
OJ loved this display,
For he knew his friends won't betray,
So he started on his essay,
Ignoring his patience's decay.
The uni rules he'd obey,
And a good student he'd portray,
At least that's what he said on the survey.
And so came the last day,
Of OJ's exams, HOORAY!
He went to a cafe
Where he ate a souffle,
Then to a buffet
Til his belt buckle gave way.
And so, if I may
I'd end this poetic soiree,
Oh and by the way?
Jean Baptiste Pierre Antoine de Monet
WOW! OJ, I have to say that was FAR superior to your poem. hahaha
I can hear it...I can hear it...I CAN HEAR IT.
Hear what you ask?
Madness...? No, this, is SPARTA.
Actually I lied, but i thought pugs might want to set both poems to music. That way we'll have an LP instead of a single.
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