9.28.2007

poetry

is bad. I realized this when I was reading other people's poetry today. They were pretty much all about death and souls and hearts and suicide, except for the one chick's whose were all about sex.

And they were all so...melodramatic.

Now, I write stuff in this blog from time to time (often, actually) about me being sad, because that's who I am. I don't write bad poetry about it, though. Not anymore, at least. You know why I don't do that anymore? Because I realized that they were LAME. Nobody wants to read about "The wind pulls my soul in the direction of Hell, and my pants come with it." Okay, not really.

Bad poetry just ruins my appetite, you know?

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