C h a n g e, by . QUEENIE . Subscribe to rss feed for <b>. QUEENIE .</b>

Im running out of paper in this notebook of hard times,
Every new page is a step closer to my complete insanity. 
Why does this have to be? 
Complain and complain 
about where your mistakes have taken you 
but never once make the effort to 
c h a n g e. 
I suppose Im nothing but a contradiction, 
I supposed I'm just here to make your life 
not quite the paradise you'd hoped for, Im just a 
manipulation. 
Still the last thing i want from you is convorsation! 
When everything just points to me being a failure in the 
end. 
When everything is my fault after all the yelling and 
crying. 
Blame me! 
Blame me for your terrible life! 
Do i have that stamped to my forehead? 
If they cared they would leave me alone. 
It's hard to do anything with someone 
breathing down your neck, waiting for you to screw it all 
up again. 
It's like they get pleasure in yelling and cursing 
and making me realize that 
i really am the peice of shit that i already feel like.  
Well Im already a lazy failure according to them, 
All i need is the pot and im all set! 
What the hell do they think? 
I supposed society is somewhat to blame- 
people nowadays thrive off of electronic information, 
artificial, ecomony-boosting "emotion" 
that they are fed because 
of their own lack of fullfillment. 
"Something's missing in my life so I'm just going to do 
what the government tells me" 
thus, people, grow to believe things 
that aren't even necessary to give recognition to. 
For example: School is extremely important 
to the point where if you do bad in it, 
you are a bad person. 
In conclusion: 
bad grades = bad person = bad life = failure. 
My talents, the only joy in my life, 
are put on hold because i dont meet any standards. 
What about the standards of being A good person? 
A human being? 
I dont want your help or guidance. 
Cause its not help or guidance- its yelling and putdowns. 
Its misunderstanding, 
Its commercialized. 
Its fake. 
Like you and your Corporate Lies.
To sum it up, your "help" is an excuse 
for you to be on my ass about 
why Im going down the wrong path. 
Go ahead, make us move. 
Prod us more with your taser of lies,
Or flock us away
Lets just run away from all our problems
and be like you. 
And i guess you think this is a bunch 
of highschool drama blown out of proportion, 
and i guess theres nothing else it could be. 
How could everything have turned out so bad? 
You were my everything, i fucking loved you
and now
It's like everything died and went to hell. 
I guess my issues go 
even deeper than bad grades. 
What the the hell are we even living for these days? 
To be happy, fulfilled, loved, rich, perfection, 
imperfection, could you tell me? 
could you tell me so that i have something 
to hold on to through all this pain and stress? 
could you perhaps tell me 
something thats NOT on that list, 
since everything i listed there were things 
that i have already lost, in the order i lost them? 
I just dont know anymore... 
I only have twenty pages left in this journal. 
Saved for the hard times. 
My entire sanity relies on these twenty pages. 
At the rate I'm going, 
they'll be gone in a week. 

xoxo
Kyelle

Posted: 2005-04-19 20:34:08 UTC

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2010-04-16 00:42:31Emotionless
I never thought my entire life would be written in a poem. And what was really unexpected, my life story in a poem thingy is a really good one!