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A very long poem I wrote.
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| 18 Oct 2013 02:23 PM
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When life is bad, and you're sad,
the best thing to do is get mad.
When you're fed up, you should attack,
because that's the only way to attack.
When you're sad, then be glad,
because being sad is sad.
When you're mad, then be glad,
because being mad is just as bad.
If you don't like it, then quit it,
because if you're not gonna quit it, then you shouldn't have even started doing it in the first place.
Now quit being sad, because life is great,
and don't say I'm too late,
because if I'm too late, then I'm too late for a reason.
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| 18 Oct 2013 02:25 PM
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1/10
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zqYdW5X4pU#t=27s
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| 19 Oct 2013 02:34 PM
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I am sorry. That was my first attempt, and the others are better.
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| 19 Oct 2013 02:38 PM
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For example:
When life is bad, and you're sad,
the best thing to do is get mad.
When you're fed up, you should attack,
because that's the only way to attack.
When you're sad, then be sad,
because being sad is sad.
When you're mad, then be sad,
because being mad is sad.
If you don't like it, then like it,
because if you're not gonna like it, then you shouldn't have even started disliking it in the first place.
Now like being sad, because life is sad,
and don't say I'm too sad,
because if I'm too sad, then I'm too sad for a reason.
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| 19 Oct 2013 02:40 PM
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Another one:
Life is like a box full of kittens.
Some get out, some get in, some get eaten.
The ones that get eaten are dead cats.
They get eaten by dead people who are cats.
Those people eat them because they like cats.
But sometimes, cats eat cats,
which is something you can see in a cat-eating-cat eating contest,
where they make money off cats that eat cats.
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| 20 Oct 2013 12:43 PM
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Here are some more I wrote today:
The world is full of stuff I hate.
That makes me want to kill myself,
but I won't just yet,
until it gets better than it is now,
although that might never happen,
so I'll keep on living
while I hate myself for living.
One of my classmates is a nerd.
I hate her because of that.
I also want to punch her in the face,
but my fist is too weak to make that possible,
so she'll continue to exist,
and I will continue to hate her.
Life is too short for me to live.
So, why am I living?
Maybe it's because I have no choice,
because I was born into this planet.
But the question is,
why was I born into this planet?
It's because I had no say,
so I'll die with regret,
until my children are born,
and that's what life is all about.
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