Please excuse the comma splices, tense changes, verbosity, etc. I was just a youngin' and now I realize the error of my grammatical ways. Plus, I preferred the flowery and descriptive writing styles of the early 19th century and beyond rather than the short, journalistic post-Hemingway-style of writing. I love intense imagery and descriptions in general. Still deciding whether I should edit my old poetry for grammar mistakes or take the Beatnik approach and fuck it.

Disclaimer: I only wrote/write on bad days. Grand days have never inspired me enough to write as I've always used writing as an outlet. A majority of my poetry is angsty, dark humored, or depressing, however, I don't have depression, and I'm not self-destructive or suicidal by any means. My writing is mostly a tenfold representation of the kind of day I was having at the time. Embellishing the realities of my bad days on paper helped turn them into good days. Not sticking my head into an oven anytime soon (or ever, actually). :P +10 points if you got the reference.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment

Thursday, April 5, 2007

The Green-Eyed Monster

To tell a lie is an unfortunate act,
For a lie is an evil, wrongdoing pact,
What goes around comes around in daily life,
Till the day you die by nature or by knife.

White lie or not every lie is wrong,
Even the littlest lie ends in a sad song,
Tis' lies that brought great empires down,
It forced some monarchs to give up their crown.

Whether peasant, warrior, king, or queen,
They all had to be sent to stocks on the village green,
Your greatest friend one day, could not be the next,
All because of a lie, your friendship be hexed.

Abstain from the dark art of lie-telling,
Tis' sat*n who ye' your soul be selling,
Take heed to my warning and forever tell the truth,
Set a good example for this generation's youth.

Copyright © 2007

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