Thursday, March 25, 2010

Welcome to the inside of my younger mind

It's true, you're about to enter into the head of my high school mind. I used to think of myself as quite the poet, I only knew how to write one form of poetry, and I used it a lot....seriously....a lot.

So I thought I would treat you all to a couple of poems I stumbled upon while packing some things today...

Promises

Promises, promises
there are so many kinds
Some are made by idiots,
others by great minds.

There is the real promise
the one that is never broken,
just like the one in marriage,
where your heart is the token.

There is the broken promise,
this one is the worst,
when you really believe in this one,
you feel like your heart will burst.

There is the promise of friends,
it's the most difficult to know,
because you need to know the difference,
between a friend and a foe.

The difference isn't always clear,
and you may find out,
that those closest friends of yours,
look at your friendship with doubt.

There is the promise of enemies,
the most sever of all,
it could be a bomb in your front yard,
or maybe just a prank call.

There are so many promises,
I just can't list them all,
so next time you think it's necessary,
don't promise, it could cause a great fall.

Promises are meant to be broken,
or so they all say,
so maybe it doesn't matter,
that they are broken everyday.

I say it does matter,
I'm tired of being hurt,
and the rest of the promised world,
is tired of being treated like dirt.

So the next time you make a promise,
you better keep your word,
or the promised people will be after you,
like an angry wild herd.

Wow, how corny huh? The silly thing is I can remember writing it after some high school drama unfolded about a secret I shared with a "friend" of mine that was then shared with others and chaos followed. Oh high school.

How about one more from the depths of high school drama:

Fighting:

What should I do now,
they're winning against me,
I'm not a great fighter,
can't you see?

I've done all that I can do,
just to become...cool,
I guess it's just not enough,
at least not in this school.

They're putting me down again,
and I just want to run,
but they won't let me go,
because they said they weren't done.

There's no place left to hide,
should I just let them win?
All I want to do is quit,
is that such a sin?

I'm just waiting around,
waiting for a dream,
but they're crushing it,
I just want to scream.

What about me?
I want to live,
maybe I'm just selfish,
but I have nothing left to give.

I'm not aloud to live my life,
the way I'd like to live it,
because I'm just too afraid,
of being the next one to be hit.

Life just isn't fair,
if you don't have the name,
you can't play the game,
but they sure will let you take the blame.

I've been pushed around,
and even knocked to the ground,
but I'm still hoping,
to get a catch on the rebound.

Should I stay,
or should I go?
If I let them win,
I'll feel even more low.

I want my share of life,
no matter what it takes,
and I'll make it through my life,
no matter what obstacles it takes.


There are parts of this that came from another realm at the time. Things I was battling with that I never really understood until a few years ago. This one still resonates with me, no matter how poorly written because I remember sitting in study hall on the verge of tears. I remember the day, the name he called me. I have long ago forgiven him, I've forgiven high school for what it was and I've moved on, and I am actually really glad I didn't fully understand what was going on in my head or it would have been a disaster. I knew what it was, but I wasn't even close to saying it or accepting it, or thinking I could ever let it be.

I have many more of these in boxes with other things. I come across piles of them from time to time, some typed, some just scratched out on a random page of notes. Some I remember writing, others I'm not sure when I wrote them. lol.

I guess my writing has always had a dark undertone. Who knew? Oh yeah, most of you. lol.

The other night I was visiting the parental units and my sister and we're sitting around watching t.v. and talking and I can't remember what brought me to say this, but I made the comment that I was just going to move into the woods, build a cabin and live off the land. I thought it was funny until my sister made the comment...."like Walden? He was gay, how about that too?" I froze and stared at her. It felt as if the moment lasted an hour, but I'm sure in reality it was a mere second before my father changed the subject in his usual manner.

It was a very awkward moment and I'm not sure if anyone noticed the awkwardness in my facial expression. Probably not, but it was an eye opening experience as to how awkward that conversation could be. It will certainly be an interesting day when that happens, that's for sure. lol.

So anyway, there's drama at work, just like every other day there in the 16 years I've been in and out of that place. They keep trying to drag me into it, but I've been refusing. I just ask them all...."why can't we just come to work and work? Do we really need to be putting one another down? Do we really think we're all that much better than everyone else? I find it hard to believe because each and every one of us has a bad attitude, we lack skills in our jobs, and we have bad days....why can't we all just get over it and make it pleasant for the hours we're together." I just don't get it. The one guy wouldn't let it go and kept coming to me and tattling on everyone about what they are doing wrong. I finally stopped and asked him if he thought everything he did was perfect? I told him to be careful about what doors he opens because for someone that has been with the company for 9 years and can't do a single task correctly without supervision he's throwing some mighty big stones in his glass house.

Of course he didn't quite understand the whole glass house metaphor.......I really need out of that place. I miss having intellectual conversations, well as intellectual as I can get. lol.

Well, I think that's all for today. I was very productive and I'm feeling good about the last 32 3/4 years. While I had some rough times.....who hasn't? It's the bad times that mold a person, for better or worse, I am who I am because of all it. Looking back at pictures and papers and going through all this stuff has really helped me see what a good life I've lead so far. I know the future has some tough times ahead, but I'm ready for them, I'm just so damn lucky.

...............B, that's something to ballroom dance to! :)

2 comments:

  1. You should make a scrapbook of your poems. (I know, I'm such a girl)

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  2. Ballroom dance to this BITCHES!

    So hilarious!
    Oh high school was so emo for all of us...the drama, the heartache, the complete confusion over who you really are...wait...that didn't stop when I graduated. Dammit.

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