The Things To Which We Fall

July 19, 2011
By Anonymous

Well, How'd this get started?
People calling me retarded
Screw this generation of people who laugh at a guy who farted
Burn it down, we arson it
Let go the people who started it
Blame who wasn't involved in it
School shooting, youngsters with stars in them
Gun stores to Guitar Center
How can America fall better?
Young kids, cocaine jet-setters
Or 16 year old bed-wetters
Children without enough attention
Family matters, then decension
To a house filled with hate and retention
Nerdy kid on the court, benchin
Suicidal girls, product of advertisements

Teachers, gym coaches so relentless
Apple, invent this
Something not pointless
Something that will get people off their distraught thoughts that too little weight has been lost but not thinking possibly that not everyone needs to be skinny
Craig, get off the Jenny
Cheap garbage for a penny
Racist, my name's not Kenny
I thought I got that plenty already
But instead I've got heads that want to challenge me
Girls were nice, now stereotyped bores
Like, no one cares about what you wore
That day they saw a cute guy walking around in the store
But, like always. I'll keep my mouth shut, I swore
But now everyone can read about what's torturing me
On the inside, hopefully it's captivating
Want to hear a kid scream? Go ahead, try and castrate me
What is cultivating on the fields
Can't compare to the tension I feel
Towards everybody, sometime until
The point when I'm wide awake
I'm not Amish, forget going to bed at 8
I'm not religious, passion of my Christ
I hope people will think my story is tight
I want everyone to be taken by surprise
My book, shove the vile words into your eyes
I like to slack off, loiter inside the gym
Penguins with Jim
What's going on with him?
White American named Jim
On his computer, playing Sims
Playing Call of Duty, shoot off the limbs

I can be curious, but I know I'm not religious
I wish I could be accepted for being atheist
When I tell people, I get taken into
A room with padded walls and dark, desolate halls
The only thing that makes me insane
Is the pain I get in vain
People won't laugh when I make it rain
For grades I know I can't sustain

The author's comments:
This poem is just my personal thoughts and/or my ranting/bantering in rhyming form.

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