Do not mistake my quite for dunce
for every second a new thought is formed
in my brain, it is stored
yes, just twist the dagger in a little more
as I moan in pain, I refuse to satisfy you with my tears
just a little air Oh just a tiny space
in there, a method to my madness
draft, review, finalize, and publish it all in your honor
they call it revenge but I call it Revenge
the author of your pain, will I be
and trust me I know how it ends
I wrote the book.
library. I have been at it for three hours, and it didn’t seem like it was ending soon. You don’t need to posses the power of telepathy to know that I was not’ in anyway enjoying myself. After a paragraph or two I gaze off in oblivion. I was tired and board out of my brains, and my head was literally hurting. I had not read any book aside from school textbook in four month, and it was driving me real crazy. I looked at the stupid ‘Politics in America’ textbook that I was reading with so much detest. I engaged the textbook in a cordial, but hateful discussion with me doing most of the talking. It resulted to nothing. I still had to read the assigned chapters. Listen! when you start hating or talking to an inanimate object the crazy is real, and you need to give yourself break.