 |
| 100 8/11/01 My One Hundredth Poem... Why does this all come out? Where does this all come from? Is my head as really messed up as I think? Or am I just some kid trying to get attention? Either way I am who I am, And still kind of here but also different from all of them So now look down, Block-out all noise and every sound, And just think of one person, Poem to poem thought to though, I say things that make you stare, It doesn�t fucking matter and you don�t fucking care! |