Wondering thoughts
That are written by obedient fingers
That refuse to be spoken
But on the tip of my tongue
Linger

A wondering voice
That is unspoken
Replaced by a myriad of words
The silence is
Broken

Eyes closed inwardly
A simple reflection of a verse
Something spontaneous
Nothing rehearsed
Poetry

-sighs-
Utterly bored.
School's fulla readings and readings.
Sometimes I wonder if I really am absorbing the stuff I read.
Where does it go?
What the hell does memory look like?
How much can one memorize or understand?

So many times...
I'm deterred..
Because I'm taking psychology..
People have a funny impression of me..
Like I'm some mad loser whos not gonna make enough money..
Well mayeb I'm not gonna make loads of money
but who gives a shit...
ArgH.

Life stinks.