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Ghetto Fabulous
Baggy jeans and a jersey shirt.
A backwards hat and a dirty flirt.
An attitude with cocky eyes.
A "gansta" wannabe, with "ghetto" cries.
He walks like he's the shit, testosterone out the door.
He tries to entertain us all, but his dubious pride is such a bore.
You're fake ya know, its obvious.
A mockery of man, you're ghetto fabulous.
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Preppy Bitches
They're killing me.
I need to leave.
Their stupid laughs.
Their evil looks.
Their lack of respect.
They need to read a book.
Their preppy clothes.
Their done up hair.
Their smart remarks.
Their idea of fun.
Their concededness.
I hate everyone.
Their pure dumb luck.
Their conceded views.
Their cocky eyes.
Their barbie ditziness.
They annoy me with their selfishness!
I hate those preppy bitches.
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I
I feel. . .
Confusion and uncertainty-
mystifying perplexity
I have. . .
A cloud in my mind, blocking the light
Holding the thoughts in that aren�t so bright
There is. . .
A nuisance to my brain
These thoughts cloud my mind
No one knows the pain
That I fail to leave behind
I know. . .
Everyone�s hurting, myself included
I wish I could concentrate; my thoughts are diluted.
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Sleep
All I want to do is sleep.
I just need the rest,the escape.
But it can't be allowed, I-
have to stay awake for you, I-
have to be loud, be funny, be 'me.'
I'm the unhappiest, yet,
I uphold your happiness.
I am the link in your life, I-
hold that responsibility.
I'm here to entertain,
and to console.
I'm here to be thought about,
without being appreciated for those thoughts.
Really, all I want to do,
is sleep.
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