It moves with graceful confidence,
Most polite in all its ways.
It weaves fine silk for penniless
And with homeless children plays.
Though from its charity I could prosper,
A long-awaited dream of mine,
I will not rest until its demise.
I've been writing a lot of poetry lately...and now think in poetry(which wasn't helpful durring finals-especially algebra and spanish/spanisho)
i don't get why you want this happyness to die. thats the one thing that i dont understand!!!
ReplyDeletealso. try writing a poem in spanish. i would love to read that
Because it's too nice! Sort of like if something is so impossibly nice you expect them to have some secret motive. Like paranoia or almost even jealousy for such a thing.
ReplyDeleteand this is a poem in spanish by me:
yo soy
muy muy
stupido-
yo no
hablo
spanisho!
tadaaaaa!!!!!!!!!! (jazz hands)
(trips and falls)
ReplyDeletei love your poem. its amazing. poetic. genios. yes, i know i cant spell. its summer, im excused from thinking.