If Everyday Were Sunday...

I would be very happy. But I would not get much sleep.

Wednesday, February 1

Poem (No, It Doesn't Look Like One)

Pushing, pounding, / On the table. / Might as well be / In my head. // Shivers run / Down my spine, / Chills throughout / Though the sun shines. // Music deafens / In this prison, / Shaking hand / Writes words of wisdom. // Pushing back / Not pushed around / Escaping thoughts / In actions loud.

4 Comments:

  • At February 01, 2006 9:43 PM, Blogger The Fri said…

    mwa ha ha... Great poem, you are a very good writer. And the video probably won't work unless you have Windows Media Player... sorry if you don't have that. But if you do have that then I have no idea what's wrong. Thanks for praying for my dad. :) See ya!

    ~Sarah~

     
  • At February 08, 2006 7:44 AM, Blogger Breanna Monique said…

    I just wrote a prison poem too. Are we both feeling very trapped or something? Except mine was more like an invisible wall. It's not quite done yet. I'll post it on my Second Wind website when it is. You should visit that too, but you can't leave comments, sadly.

     
  • At February 08, 2006 10:26 PM, Blogger benjamin said…

    i feel it. it's kinda reflecting a pretty screwed up situation i'm in right now. so. yeah. i feel it.

     
  • At March 03, 2006 6:49 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Cool, poem. It has great emotion, in fact almost too much emotion. Do you have repressed feelings. If you do, write more poetry. bye

     

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