I wrote this in philosophy class....

Sisyphus had a lonesome plight
Twas to wander day and night
Many times to mountain top
While pushing up a heavy rock
Yet ere he would approach the tip
His knees would buckle, his hands would slip
And then back down the rock would roll
Crushing Sisyphus' goal

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I know not who I am
I know not what to do
I know that I'm not happy
But it's not because of you.

I know not who you are
I know not what I see
I know not why I'm here
Or who I want to be.

BUT I know that I am quiet
And I know that I am shy
I know some days I smile,
And I know some days I cry.

And I know that all I want
Is to be happy and be free
And to see a drastic change
In my personality.

 I wish that I could write better poems than this :S To me, this is really cheesy...my poems usually aren't that cheesy. I'm also not very fond of the last four lines...but It'll have to do for now.

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And they sit there with their doors open and their eyes closed

Staring at the world, but not really seeing

Waiting for some unseen promise to suddenly appear

And reveal itself through broken words.

Words that spill from chapped lips.

Lips that rarely ever speak and are raw with misery.

I am pro at run on sentences and crummy poetry. I live for long nights and full moons. I worship the tree, the leaf and the blue sky above. I want to write a story and I want you to read it.

-Whatsername

p.s. Sometimes I feel like Laura Wingfield from The Glass Menagerie

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So it's nearly 5:30 in the morning and I am still awake. I spent the entire night writing a five page essay that is due later today. I just thought I'd write a blog, since it seems I have nothing better to do at the moment...aside from sleep :S. Maybe if I'm pleased with this one, I'll write again sometime.

In the meantime, I shall drink my coffee, listen to Forever Young on repeat and wait for the sun to rise.

-Whatsername

p.s. Walt Whitman makes my life.

``Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you reckon'd the earth much?
Have you practis'd so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of
all poems,
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions
of suns left,)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through
the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books,
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self. ``

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