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FenderSkaface Vice Captain
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 Posted: Fri Apr 27, 2007 4:21 pm
Woot. I have my own thread in the everso famous writers forum. I feel special. But then again...I did make the guild and I can post whatever nonsense I want. But I still feel magnificant. ANYWHO.
Poetry.
This one is a song and sounds ten times better with chords and my oh so wonderful voice but until I record it here are the crappy lyrics.
Call It trendy, call me a follower.
Call it greedy, call it stingy
Words that always described me?
Call it confused, call it wrong
I could say the same about what you're doing
Call your best friend, oh wait you don't have one.
Maybe you could call your sister
Don't worry about me, don't cry at night cause I'm releived.
Smile when you look at me (your daughter)
Don't hide your face
You're being paranoid.
Call me young, call me selfish
Call me what ever you please.
Call me weird, call me queer
It's not changing me (Your dear daughter)
Then there is just like a bunch or renditions of the chorus and verses and stuff. It really does sound better with music. Reading over the lyrics I realized how stupid it all sounds.
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Posted: Fri Apr 27, 2007 4:31 pm
Untitled
Hopless and dreading the years to come in the middle.
Hatred and negative remarks swarming the air of the youth.
11 year olds forming opinions based on MTV and sellouts singing what they didn't write.
A little girl says her mom is working three jobs to pay the bills, what do we do?
Put it on television for everyone to see.
Beleiving what you "have" to beleive is no longer called brainwashing, but religion.
Another child just died in africa as I wrote that line.
Who cares?
We can sit here and argue about gay marraige and abortion being stingy with our problems..
But who's argueing about AIDS are poverty?
Kids like us who supposedly have nothing else to do but "get on myspace"
Kids like us, saving our money for video games.
NO, kids like us who don't want to live in the hated country we call home.
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FenderSkaface Vice Captain
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FenderSkaface Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Apr 27, 2007 4:37 pm
Boy in Magenta, girl in scarf
Discontent and vain, remember that day when it was...
raining behind that window.
Write our thoughts on the wall, we'd rather not forget that day.
It takes soaking in the sun and splashing in the puddles with my headphones in my ears.
Gold rush in your eyes, I forget all my struggles while sitting in my backyard without fear.
Damn that billiant light that shines on you like a spotlight, the one only I can see.
My fingers moving faster on the frets of growing anger, frustration, and yet a sence of glory.
Letting it out I break my e-string.
Snapping it hits my knee.
Color me white, color me black, detail me with freakles and bruises, and scars.
Follow me home, sneak in my bedroom, and choke me with that tainted scarf.
Chase me around, knock me down, take away my sight.
Only because once I see you, you know I'll be blind by that spotlight.
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Posted: Fri Apr 27, 2007 4:40 pm
I'm actually kind of proud of myself for that last one. I havn't written anything I thought was actually pretty good ina while. I'm glad I figured out how to end it. I suck at ending poems.
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FenderSkaface Vice Captain
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