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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Same olddots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Jeniffer
    ASL Info:    18/f/earth
    Elite Ratio:    5.76 - 240/279/81
    Words: 194
    Class/Type: Poetry/Depressed
    Total Views: 1063
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1186



    Description:
       I've been unable to write much of anything except for funny, sarcastic stuff. Must be because I write from life too much....trying to do anything else has been disastrous.

    I think the rhythm of the last stanza is a bit different from the rest of the poem, but forget I said that, just judge it for yourself and let me know what you think (make me believe this someone still cares!).


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsSame olddots
    -------------------------------------------


    Wake up to the same old smell,
    get out of the same old bed;
    walk down the same old hall,
    same old throbbing in my head.

    Look into the same old mirror,
    same reflection stares back at me;
    sit down in the same old chair,
    same old shows on TV.

    The day goes by in the same old way,
    my brain is covered in mold;
    my face is ticking to the words,
    "Same old, same old, same old!"

    Same old crush is too close to my heart,
    same old song is stuck in my head;
    still feeding the same old art,
    same old peanut butter and bread.

    Same old books are beckoning
    fruitlessly from the shelf;
    I can't see past the words on the page,
    I can't think outside of myself!

    Still pushing the same direction,
    and something has got to give;
    still dragging the same old feet,
    the same old way is a hard way to live!

    You complain of not feeling yourself,
    which I think you are lucky to say;
    I am feeling very much myself,
    and I'm tired of feeling that way!




    Submitted on 2007-04-05 15:33:58     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Same old books are beckoning
    fruitlessly from the shelf;
    I can't see past the words on the page,
    I can't think outside of myself!

    Still pushing the same direction,
    and something has got to give;
    still dragging the same old feet,
    the same old way is a hard way to live!

    You complain of not feeling yourself,
    which I think you are lucky to say;
    I am feeling very much myself,
    and I'm tired of feeling that way!



    Your rhythm is quite good actually, and I believe that only the shift in perspective in the last strophe makes it appear to have a different cadence than the others (which lends the close of the post a perfect, bone jarring quality).

    'Feeding the same old art?' Isn't that the truth.

    Nicely done
    Bill
    | Posted on 2007-04-05 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ]
      I definitely feel this way somedays. Just go through school and nothing different happens, it just seems like a repeat of the day before. I disagree with you, I think the last stanza fits perfectly and seems to sum up the poem nicely. Repeating same old over again really helped express the dullness of your days. I really enjoyed reading this, but I didn't understand the line:

    "still feeding the same old art,"

    I'm not sure if there's a typo or I'm just ignorant, just thought I'd point it out.

    Peace,
    Love,
    And weed for all!
    | Posted on 2007-04-05 00:00:00 | by Magic Dragon | [ Reply to This ]


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