Yessssss. No assigned topic today. Write about whatever.
Today’s friggin awesome classic poem is here.
Yessssss. No assigned topic today. Write about whatever.
Today’s friggin awesome classic poem is here.
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What kind of dream,
Will i dream tonight?
Will it be of horses?
Or of birds in flight?
How many times,
Will i see your face?
Or will I imagine you,
In a different place?
Is it to be pleasant?
Or scary as can be?
What kind of monsters,
Am i to see?
These are the questions,
That run through my head,
When I go to my room,
And fall on my bed.
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I am so sick
Of being sick.
Would that I could travel back in time –
Find the moment when those malevolent microbes,
Vile viruses came into being,
Stomp on them with microscopic boots
And change the course of history.
It is probably a good thing
I can’t time travel, though;
When I came back to the future I’m sure I’d see
The United States turned into a communist power
As a result of my time meddling,
Or Lenin visiting parties as a clown,
Making balloon hats.
Okay, the last one would actually be
Pretty funny.
(Haha.)
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0
I’m in bed.
The lights are off.
My eyes are open,
straining to make out
tomorrow’s outline
in the darkness.
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+1