now.. today, i was kinda hyper and bored in class. and decided to make poems...
now here is what i made

cactus! *long pause* balooooon....
cactus! *shorter pause* balooooon
cactus!baloooooon
cactus! no baloon.

yes i know. its deep. almost makes me cry when i say it. poor baloon..

and an old one.
this one is on duck lanuage, so it migth be a bit hard to get.

quack. quack guack quack! quack? BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

poor duckie...


and this one has a deep meaning that i myself havent quite got yet...

biiiiiip. ip bip dingdong, kapotski! miriririririrkanskadosjski! hehehe..
dictionary?
blue.
the wind is like a piano.
biiiiiiip!

*sniff*

and if you laugh, i'll haunt you down and kill you.

I love that poem, it made me laugh (but in a sad, almost mourning sort of way).

Good. i love it too. so much that i preformed it, standing on a chair in the middle of the hall at school..


baloooooooooooooooon.......

here is one of my *real' poem. if you can call it that.... its not exacly a poem.. i dont know what it is.. lets call it a text..


Im sitting inside my own head, looking out. I see my life pass by in black and white, and i ask my self why? If i only could turn back time, to change things i have done and said. But done is dune, so i guess i must live on.

I remember when i was a little girl, i had no worries i my life. No responsebility for anything and i had no idea of witch great chalenges i would have to face later in my life. I lived inside my bubble, and i thought everything was perfect. I could not see what was on the other side, and i did not want to.

But now im growing up. I see people suffering everyday. I want to hide inside my bubble, become a child again, but my bubble was gone. And i stood there naked. I saw real tears for the first time. Tears of pain. tears from the heart. I tried to take a part of the pain, but the pain grow even stronger. I tried to wipe away the tears, but only more tears came. So now im just sitting inside my head. looking out, realises that i cant help. I failed.

^ Very nice poem. I will post some of my poem stories later on today. I'm still kinda awstruck at my friend, Queenie's, death... :(

Creator B)

So am I, Creator. Wonder what caused her to do it?
George :P

that was very nice and sad. Inspiration on poems like that take a bit out of you.
Thankfully poems like Ode to the Cactus there help you recover.
I could practicly hear the bongos

Nice poem.