This is just to say that I am sorry.
You deserved it...
but I am still sorry.
Actually, I take that back.
I am not even the tiniest bit sorry.
Have fun cleaning up the frozen yolk
and miniscule pieces of eggshell,
and know that every egg thrown was symbolic of my red hot anger.
Ya know what i AM sorry for?
That I ran out of eggs.
Response:
I had a feeling it was you.
I knew you would stoop to a new level of immaturity.
So as I stand her in sloppy puddles of yolk,
I just have one thing to say to you.
Revenge is sweet.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Matrix V. 2
While fighting to stay awake through the long, endless lectures of english class,
I long for recess once again.
That half hour of heavin in the middle of every torturous day when everything was right with the world.
When I have to stand by and watch my hard earned money claw it's way,
kicking and screaming,
out of my bank account
I can't help but daydream about the days when I could go to my mother for money...
and actually get it.
Those days when I spend endless hours pouring over homework that...
let's face it...
I'm never going to get,
Remind me of how much I miss the days when learning how to spell Minnesota for the spelling test the next day seemed like an impossible task.
When friends turn out to be different than I expect,
and the ones I think I can count on betray me,
I would give anything to go back to the second grade.
To the times when friendship was simple.
When a simple "I'll trade you my pudding for that juicebox" was all it took.
And when the hardships come rolling in like an unstoppable tidal wave,
I long for the days when my biggest problem was the chocolate milk I spilled on my new white Easter dress.
But,
I guess those are just the drawbacks of growing up.
I long for recess once again.
That half hour of heavin in the middle of every torturous day when everything was right with the world.
When I have to stand by and watch my hard earned money claw it's way,
kicking and screaming,
out of my bank account
I can't help but daydream about the days when I could go to my mother for money...
and actually get it.
Those days when I spend endless hours pouring over homework that...
let's face it...
I'm never going to get,
Remind me of how much I miss the days when learning how to spell Minnesota for the spelling test the next day seemed like an impossible task.
When friends turn out to be different than I expect,
and the ones I think I can count on betray me,
I would give anything to go back to the second grade.
To the times when friendship was simple.
When a simple "I'll trade you my pudding for that juicebox" was all it took.
And when the hardships come rolling in like an unstoppable tidal wave,
I long for the days when my biggest problem was the chocolate milk I spilled on my new white Easter dress.
But,
I guess those are just the drawbacks of growing up.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Life in Customer Service
What I Really Want To Say
I’m teetering on the edge of insanity.
The anger boils,
Red hot,
Under my skin.
With every ungrateful word that crawls out of your disrespectful mouth
I come to resent you a little more.
You push and you push
And then you push some more
And your rude remarks are about to catapult me off this ledge.
One day,
One more incident,
And I will break.
The wrath of my anger and spite is something no one wants to see,
So just go away
Before I say what I really want to say.
Until then,
I guess I have to stick with
“Thank you.
Have a nice day.”
I’m teetering on the edge of insanity.
The anger boils,
Red hot,
Under my skin.
With every ungrateful word that crawls out of your disrespectful mouth
I come to resent you a little more.
You push and you push
And then you push some more
And your rude remarks are about to catapult me off this ledge.
One day,
One more incident,
And I will break.
The wrath of my anger and spite is something no one wants to see,
So just go away
Before I say what I really want to say.
Until then,
I guess I have to stick with
“Thank you.
Have a nice day.”
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