So now Ill write stuff talking about other stuff. Well school has drama. Alot of it. Ack.
But I dont really want to talk about that now do I? No I dont. So Ill write some poetry.
Waiting.
I sit here waitng, hoping, hating.
Why do find myself lying?
I know in my heart,
That Im just waiting for this to start.
I know it wont its already over.
Just like clover,
All over an old dead house.
But that atleast has a purpose to feed the mouses.
Whats our purpose?
Just to hurt?
Just to get hurt.
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