This is all copied and pasted from my greatestjournal. too lazy to go find the hard copies and type from them. And the explanation for the first one is a comment that I wrote in the poetry community I posted it in, in response to a good review. Because I'm too lazy to give them titles, neither of them has a title.
-------
I don't feel like
listening to music tonight
It wouldn't be right
somehow
I would be lying
my happiness dying
If something could die
that has so long been dead
there's a wicked tension in my head
And if my soul has already bled
to death I wouldn't notice tonight
Angry silence couds my mind
my jaw has set my teeth to grind
maybe if I'm patient I'll find
that final thread of hope
that maybe there is gladness
still left in this world

The reason for my anger is not clear
and its target I truly hold so dear
but nothing is more blind than hatred
and nothing spills as much young blood
though still nothing explains my
lack of acceptance of my cursed drug


----
^I'll tell you the inspiration. Heh. I'm a Green Day junkie. Last night I watched Behind The Music: Green Day. And it made me feel all weird and angry at the punk community or well, I'm not really sure exactly who I was mad at, but you get the picture, because they were like ew Green Day you suck because your record is popular and we don't like you because you sing about love and you have melody to your sound. ew. And yeah, I took a moment to sit and think about it and I was like "and all this time I thought they were punk. Hmm." I'm not really sure what I ever really thought but meh. Pop-punk, same dif. And I saw these two 90s looking girls who were like "Billie Joe is SO HOT" and I was like ew. Omg is that what I sound like? So I took a moment to reevaluate myself and for some reason I couldn't listen to music, which for me is a tragedy because I love music, like I need music like I need breathing. I've even been known to change and go to the bathroom with my headphones on. So yeah that was like a huge thing for me and I was angry so I had to write that. **** those clichés of teen poetry. And here I thought I was exempt. Anyway there's another poem that I may or may not have posted here called unreliable *just remembers that this poem has no name* *hits head against computer desk repeatedly* and that one's about the song Good Riddance. So yeah. Whether or not you wanted to hear it (which more than likely you did not), that's my story.
*******

Sickening in
self-destruction
coming from the
wrong direction
teaching lies and
selling guise
of common "mistakes"
or hypnotize
into submission
mass illusion
peculiar confusion
hypocracy
in democracy
is all that's left
to be said