Lines and Lines
Of Code and Code,
Link a List
Node-to-Node.

How long has it been,
Since I’ve seen the sun?
If this compiles,
I’m finally done.

How I feel when I program… It used to be fun, but now it never stops :’(

The man in the mirror
Asked me who I was.

“I’m me,” I replied.
“Are you really?”
“Yes?” I questioned.

“Are you where you want to be?
Doing what you want to do?
Did you choose to stand where you stand?”

I hesitated,
Aren’t dreams just dreams,
And reality is reality?
I might want more,
But aren’t I happy
To stand where I stand?

“Are you happy?”
The man in the mirror,
Was reading my thoughts.

“Yes” I asserted,
But somewhere,
I knew I lied.

“So you’re giving up
On your dreams?”
The man in the mirror,
Remarked with an evil smirk.

He knows, I thought
The life I live,
Is not the life I want,
But dreams are just dreams,
This reality is my reality.

“Go on and give up,
Your dreams will soon fade.”
The man in the mirror
Spoke so harsh,
But I could see sadness
Somewhere in his eyes.

What he said might be true,
Dreams are just dreams,
And reality is reality,

“Yes, that is true,”
The man in the mirror
Spoke louder than before,
“Dreams are just dreams,
And reality is reality,
But your speaking to me,
How can this be?”

Just some thoughts. When you look in the mirror, are you happy with what you see, or do you know it could be something better?

I want to be a magician of words,

To be able to make people read and say,
Look at that assonance.

To make people stare in awe
Of what an onomatopoeia.

To be able to alliterate,
And have complete control.

But until then,
I’m still an amateur,
At choosing words.

Studying poetry, and admiring other poets’ use of the different magical terms describing the use of words.

“Boxers or Briefs?” I was asked today,
They caught me off gaurd,
I didn’t know what to say.

I had to think for a moment,
What do I wear,
Is there a right or wrong answer,
About my underwear?

Why would one ask?
I can’t seem to say,
But in case your wondering,
It’s boxers everyday.

…
Random nonsense. Couldn’t really think of anything for today. I bought some books of poetry, hopefully they provide some inspiration and help me become a better writer. I’ve been told that my rhythm gets thrown off once in a while, and I’ve also been told that some of my poems are very novice-like. I am a novice, but hopefully I can learn … This poem is in no way a reflection of my usual work…

Will I ever confront myself?
Will I keep turning a blind eye?

There must be a reason,
For things I do.
I can’t be fool enough,
To continue on this path.

Everyone can see me,
But no one will stop me.

Can anyone care
For someone
Who doesn’t care
About Themself?

Poem about confronting myself… Just thinking about how people keep doing things they know are bad and wondering why they keep doing so. Then I thought about how no one really talks to them about it, and maybe the person wants to be stopped. But yeah, just thoughts.

I killed myself again last night,
Pulled the knife swiftly through my skin.
The world slowly became darker,
My life seeped out through liquid red.

I awoke from that dream,
Wondering why I would dream such a thing,
I have so much to love a cherish,
What could it possible mean?

I do not have a fear of death,
For life, I cannot say the same,
I know what will happen after I die,
But not what will happen today.

I dream of death a lot at night,
Causing myself great pain,
I always wake up terrified,
Will I kill myself again?

Poem for today! More emo stuff from the emoKid! Hope you don’t have dreams where you kill yourself. Count your blessings, if you keep on living, you might get to meet me one day!…?

I was looking for Inspiration today,
I guess she didn’t want to be found.

I searched high and low,
East and West,
Close and Far,
Dark and Light,

But no matter where I looked,
She wasn’t there.

So I sit here,
Empty inside.

If you do see her,
Please tell her I was looking,
And now I am waiting,
Hoping to see her beauty.

So, National Poetry Writing Month is 1/3 of the way done.  And I’m starting to feel a lack of inspiration.  I’m pretty sure it’s because of final projects, but I’m hoping to be in the writing spirit when school has ended.

Today’s poem comes from the lack of inspiration.  Hope you like it.

Every morning I put on a mask,
I don’t want anyone to see the real me.
I worry how they’d react,
Being deceived for so many years.

Every once in a while,
Someone comes close to seeing me,
How miserable I truly am,
The fear I contain inside.

I worry if they find out
What I truly am,
I’d lose all of them,
All of my hope.

If they knew,
That I was the one
Holding them back,
Making the suffer,
Would they cast me out,
Or are they wearing masks too?

Hmmm…  This isn’t what I wanted it to be… but it’s hard to keep track of a poem that comes to you in the shower…  I really want to write a good poem dealing with masks and stuff, but whenever one comes to me, it’s at a really inconveient time.  So yeah, all I can do is work on it and keep waiting.

There once was a boy,
Who wanted to fly.
Little did he know,
It would cause him to die.

He put on some wings,
And jumped off a cliff,
Closed his eyes,
And fell in a jiff.

The little boy,
Was not like a cat,
His tiny little body
Made a big splat.

So if you’re going to fly,
Make sure to choose,
To fly on a plane,
Or your life you’ll lose.

I know… I missed yesterday… But that was do to homework!

Anyways, Today’s poem is brought to you by random thoughts of sad stories and listening to flight people at my school.

I was also thinking of the “Tale of the Good Little Boy,” but this doesn’t really tie into it…

The rat and the mouse
Went out to play,
For what seemed to be
A long fun-filled day.

The mouse thought it was fun,
But the rat pulled out a gun
And said,
Give meh all your moneh.

“I’m sick of waiting,
Cough it up you mouse!”
“But it’s not on me,
It’s back at the house!”

“Back at the house?
Then we better run,
Or my finger might slip,
And end all your fun.”

The mouse asked “Why?”
And the rat started to tear,
He would soon have to pull
The trigger he feared.

For the rat loved the mouse,
But it could never be.
‘Cause the rat was dirt poor
And had loan sharks to see.

…Couldn’t cup up with anything today. Then I started trying to rhyme to get inspiration. This is what came out…

A little bit sad, but what would you do in the rat’s shoes?…

I was going to have it the other way around (mouse robbing the rat), but I had issues coming up with stuff that way.