copying the other rose...

I know I can never be as poetic as the other rose, but I shall make an attempt to copy her "day in a poem" format.

the beauty of sleep while theatre classes.
grudgingly up as Stewart masses crusades
several prospectives, not much laughter,
but the black death returns Monday.
lines wind too long for a worthless lunch,
back home to the room before Greek.
pounding, throbbing, what's the answer?
i knew it before, i know i did, but it's gone now.
not again! *sigh* another B. or maybe worse.

library tour, nothing new, it's happened before.
not going to faint, not going to cry, not going to whine,
just keep talking, Em, you'll be fine, still in denial.
my head is killing me, won't accept the needed sympathy.
with baby-gabey, nothing worth watching,
except his laughing sweet face, oh what fun
when you're two and have a leaf on your head.
good company and good sandwhich at Oakley.
everything's gone except the headache.

an old friend being cold, snippets of Mindy Smith.
"i need a hurricane, i'm just a little girl, raggedy ann,
come to Jesus, one moment more, it's so hard to know.
hit the bottom, keep digging away, till you break through
to the light of day, still trying to work it out, i was to blame,
pushing all the blame away, and keep fighting for it all.
i know i'm not that pretty, i'm only average smart, with
an overwhelming uncanny need, just a need to survive."
i'm over-reacting again. i need to stop. drama queen.

super size me.