Been doing some more in-depth file organisation, and found a poem I’d saved from my MySpace account, written in 2006. It doesn’t wrap up, just ends, because I apparently was writing it while waiting for a bus. Anyway, have a newly 18-year-old me ruminating on herself.
A Spontaneous poem 6.04.2006
I feel you breezing past me
walking with an air of superiority
rushing off to talk to people that you know
confidently avoiding those that you don’t.
I feel you because we are the same;
A quiet person inside, screaming with frustration at the nervous chatter
battering our heads.
It seems to be coming from our very own mouths
pouring out in sickening torrents
in the futile attempt to quash the hurtful words from within us.
What else is there in life but relishing our own company
when surrounded by so many people who just don’t care what you do?
There is a certain peace in anonymity
knowing that you alone can sense your own unease
smiling at the screen as you analyse your own pitiful state of existence
realising, with a sigh of relief
that there is nothing more to it;
you’re bloody starving and the only way to fix it is to cease all assignments and blogging
and get your ass down to the bus shelter before you miss the next one too!!
Okay, crappy poem, but I don’t really have time anymore!!!