I should have stayed in bed... | Page 1 | Poetry Sessions | Guild Forums

Khleo_The_Fox
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Posted: Tue Dec 08, 2009 9:25 am

I spent last night just like I do all of the others.

Lying awake, staring at the ceiling, hoping that the cold air from the fan would put me to rest.

I drove to school this morning wishing I had a rear-view mirror so I could keep my eye on the tailgaters

That so densely populate the highway and treat it like it’s their own.

I screamed a little inside when the light turned red and I was

forced to stop for the eighth time on the way.

I flipped the bird when another punk cut me off

Just to hit his brakes and turn in at the next gas station.

I made it in time just to see the last convenient space get taken

And was once again forced to park in overflow.

I thought to myself that must be a new record for most inconveniences in one morning.

I sat in silence again at the front of the room wishing everything wouldn’t just blow right past me.

I left earlier than I should have because I could feel the anxiety rising and now I’m even farther behind.

I looked around for someone else to blame but the only person I could find was myself.

I felt like busting out someone’s window just to ease some of the pressure

But I decided it was better not to give myself something else to regret.

I listened to a band sing a song about being unlucky on the way home because I thought it was relevant.

I wondered if my medication had ever kicked in, and then I remembered this is just why I got it.

I thought about calling my doctor just to tell him it wasn’t working

Until I realized that I had forgotten my phone.

I sat down and strummed my guitar to relax

Until the E string snapped right off in my face.

I wondered why the Hell I even get up in the mornings and if it was because I craved the abuse.

I got a call from a potential employer, got excited just to find that my application was declined.

I sat in silence for a bit and tried to think of just who I screwed over to deserve this.

I went to the bathroom, splashed water on my face

Looked up and found it was getting harder not to frown.

I wanted so badly to just run off into the woods and curse,

Then I remembered that this was North Texas and that there were no natural forests.

I went out back to have a cigarette instead, clear my head you know?

Until a voice told me that this wasn’t helping.

I told him to shut up, and that keeping pent up inside

Would just lead to more mental instabilities.

That’s when I realized I was talking to myself, and that I was already there

And that this was damn pathetic.

This frustration was a direct relation to the fact that I am simply pissed about being pissed.

This victim role that I play, every hour, every day just gives me more reason to be a misanthropist.

I overheard a group of kids talking about how angry I seemed and how I probably wasn’t much fun.

I wanted to tell them not to feel alienated because the actuality is I pretty much hate everyone.

I wondered why the Hell I even get up in the mornings and just how I put up with the abuse.

I’m just a puppet on strings

Look I dance and I sing!

Now humor me and say you’re amused.

I have TV dinner and watch the silver lining get thinner, then I sit and I think to myself.

Today was no treasure and tomorrow won’t be much better,

Its final hours will never be missed.

But one day this world will come around full circle,

And my luck will get better than this.

Perhaps that’s hopeless optimism.

But that’s better than just being hopeless.

Some close their eyes to remember.

I close my eyes and try to forget.

But unfortunately… This poem has yet to end.

I spent that night just like I do all of the others.

Posted: Tue Dec 08, 2009 9:33 am

This poem isn't meant to depict my life like it's some kind of sappy sob story. It's not. If you read carefully you'll notice that I keep a humorous tone throughout the poem. It is simply meant to document my ability to happen across unfortunate situations and minor irritations.

As you could probably guess... The events in this story are not all particularly true, but they flow in such a way that the reader can relate to, and believe that such things happened because they are minor occurrences. The main message is not meant to be "aww man my life sucks". Allow me to reiterate... My life doesn't suck. The actual message of the poem is to keep pushing through all the daily bullshit, and eventually the world is going to slap you across the face with some good fortune. I didn't divide it into stanzas, but this message is relayed near the very end to the reader.

I have to present this in front of a class tomorrow for my rhetoric/composition final. Hopefully everything goes well. From past experiences with the peers in that class... It should. I think I'm the only one that takes the class seriously.