Sophomore Slump
By Diana Lee LaBrecque
Maybe its because I am a romantic at heart
Hidden by a dark cloak of cynic bad dreams.
Maybe its because my mother is right and
All I need is a boyfriend…or maybe a job.
Maybe its because for some reason it’s still winter
And the groundhog likes to mess
With the seasonal depression in all of us.
Maybe all of a sudden everything feels like its
Too much to handle
Maybe all of a sudden everything feels like its
Not enough to fully hold.
Maybe I could just blame that boy that said he’d write.
Maybe I could just blame that bad mix of antidepressants.
Maybe I could just blame that lack of attention as a child.
But I’ve played those games before and
I’m still left with questions given as answers.
And that sudden rush of panicked emptiness
That needs to be filled with anything but lonely regret
Maybe its that damn fear that I’ll wake up tomorrow and
Want to be anything else than what I am trying
To be for the rest of my life
Maybe its that damn fear
that I should have woken up yesterday.
To shake myself from this slump
My poetry and rantings. Freestyle live and love and everything good you should take it when you have the chance.
February 2011
Never ignore your poetry blog .It knows where you sleep.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
comment ramble on "Isaac's Dream"
meeting isaac's dream roomate of some one im waiting for
not like i go out and try to be seen but
you know people know you the best that know you the worst
and guitarists always say, hey jess, write me a title for this mess of words, hey jess, when you hear this do you get any ideas for a layout a life
a lyric a hit a pause i heard you can make a
symphony fit a collage?
and he tells me the story of isaac's dream
i repeat it like an idiot thinking it means anything
mortals die one death and artists die two
one for the body and
for what they never could do
so i hear a story of isaac's dream
so dark it inspires me scary i know
another story to repeat
at times
when people should know
what we all must know.
not like i go out and try to be seen but
you know people know you the best that know you the worst
and guitarists always say, hey jess, write me a title for this mess of words, hey jess, when you hear this do you get any ideas for a layout a life
a lyric a hit a pause i heard you can make a
symphony fit a collage?
and he tells me the story of isaac's dream
i repeat it like an idiot thinking it means anything
mortals die one death and artists die two
one for the body and
for what they never could do
so i hear a story of isaac's dream
so dark it inspires me scary i know
another story to repeat
at times
when people should know
what we all must know.
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