Thursday, February 10, 2011

A little bit of Erica, by my side...

Attention advid blog readers. I would like to inform you that I will be posting various works from my Creative Writing class to this blog. So don't be concerned if my posts differ from the norm.

A Text Poem:

(honk) Im not going to
take it. (honk) I'm NOT
giving you the bird.
Sure, you think that you
can make it. (honk) I
think you are absurd.


These I Have Loved:

I’ve loved quite a few, my short years of life,
It’s been quite the hay-ride indeed.
And now in spite all the strife
I’m alright if I forget my desperate need.
If I remember my faults, remember the wrong;
I brought all the pain on myself.
So, see my rough path—the bumpy, the long—
But mostly my loves, above else.

I loved one in first grade, his eyes were brown,
And his hair was the same—and soft.
He was taller than me, the toast of the town,
And, man, did I think of him oft’.
Come Valentine’s Day I wrote him a note
Professing my undying love.
If he’d talked to me prior—he hadn’t, the dope—
He must’ve decided nothing was enough.

At fifth grade I found him—my soul mate, my true—
I could see us together for sure.
When he’d come it seemed fine if he I never knew,
But Cupid’s sweet love was in store.
So I pinned and I waited for my sunset to come,
To be swept from my feet by the lad.
He moved ‘way just months later—my love, my one—
Back to the home of his dad.

I survived most middle school drifting
On by, no boy really meaning much more.
(Though, I confess, I imagined a fling
When did return the knight of before).
I struggled in idiocy, trying to gain
Love from a boy who loved not me;
He kept in my heart as the awkward years drained
But come end my heart had grown empty.

To move further on, I must say that boy’s gone;
For good. He is not coming back.
And in high school I found one
To end all others, but of sense I still firmly lacked.
I believed we had love, in my mind
On my own, but really I was just the fan.
He was the pop-star, the God sublime.
I was the ego’s one night stand.

So I mulled through depression and hated my luck.
Curse love! What has love done for me?
But I see, now the smoke’s cleared, I was a schmuck.
Love isn’t forced, it must be.
I can list all I wish of what could have once been,
But all at the back of mind
I see all that it takes is letting love in
When the love offered isn’t my design.

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