Hurry up Day
I wish you would just go away
You always give me so many things to do
You never give me rest and that’s why I can’t wait to be through with you
You move so slowly and your much too long
The longer you drag, the more things go wrong
You wake me up when I want to sleep
Every time I’m around you, you send me home tired and weak
You’re selfish and you only want to have your way
You run me around so much; you never give me time to play
Sometimes people ask me, where has the day gone?
I tell them I don’t care, because I’ve been with Day much too long
So, Hurry up Day, I wish you would just go away
Because my true love Night is coming and this time I’m begging him to stay
So cold and alone
in my isolated home.
In the mountains, in the wild,
like a parentless child.
No more familiar faces,
that I'll be seeing.
No more laughter it's just me here
no sign of another human being.
In the middle of no where,
where I now call my home.
So cold and alone,
so cold and alone.
I watch the days go by as time stands still.
I look up outside and feel the chill.
Nothing ever changes,
except that I grow old.
The world lives on
while the wind here's so cold.
I gaze up above
and watch the stars rise.
I feel so small as I look up the the skies.
And see the full moon tonight
sets quite the tone.
So cold and alone,
so cold and alone.
Shaking and shivering, while passing the time.
Waking while quivering, in the silence I find.
That my life, it's passing me by.
I sit here in wonder, and I wonder why.
That I chose to stay away,
away too long from it all.
To go out instead, and find my call.
Now in this barren, land where I roam.
So cold and alone,
so cold and alone.
NO!
Not now
Damn alarm
Feel like crying
Another Monday
I have to go to work
And still feeling so confused
Look at all those freaking stop lights
Touch me, tell me I am not dreaming
Will one of you damn lights turn green today
It's rush hour? How come we are not moving
Touch me again. With a baseball bat
Take me away from this nightmare
A tropical island please
I’ll touch that alarm clock
With a large hammer
No more Mondays
Feel better?
Feel good?
YES!
Vince Suzadail Jr
For Nette Onclaud's Touch me count -up and down contest
When one is looking for work or employment to feed their family,
Try all routes possible and get as creative as you can be,
Make a list of all talents you have no matter how big or small,
You would be surprised where this might take you after all.
I know how to do mommy blogs and reviews with some flair,
So I thought to use that talent, it might take me somewhere,
I posted up ads throughout the internet city of this gift,
Hoping God up above sends me a "help me with a blog" drift.
In a spring breeze I feel content-
Nothing to do or say, except to repent.
Even as time continues to rob me of my life-
God's Holy assurance aides me in times of strife.
So let the harassment continue at your will-
Because in the end, you will be spiritually ill.
Note: for certain people @ A.C.
Just because I say and do crazy things does not mean I am crazy. It all depends on
how you look at crazy maybe you are crazy and just think I am. A lot of people don’t
even know me so I think they got me misunderstood. What is crazy you tell me it is just
a word to me? You may think I am but I think you got me misunderstood
Some people say I am crazy others think I am cracked but they have got me
misunderstood because I am none of that. I am a fine outstanding young man I hope
you see that. I am not writing this for you or me but for the whole world to see. If you
take a minute and get to know me you will see I am none of that but you will have to
be the judge of that. Some people say I am crazy others think I am cracked I want you
to be the judge and prove this for a fact.
Day and night must testify of my labors,
And have to appraise the passing of hours
The undying zap to climb the ladder
To where Fame's proud temple shines!
Sweat and blood must their testimony give
As long as the Lord gives me grace enough to live,
And supplies the amenity of breath to toil;
Come storm or whatever tempests
Or the heights of pain and turmoil,
It shall be mine the toil of day and night;
How I wish all would get me right!
If I am nothing more than a
dreamer, then allow me dreams,
And become astonished at the
dreams that I create of nothing,
For if it is so that merely a dreamer
I am, my dreams will be superior to
all that have ever dreamed before,
and be dreams that man aspire to,
If I am nothing more than a mere
worker then allow me work, and
become inspired by the work I will
continue to do, be it manual or
academic labor, work will become
me, and I shall become work,
Yet my work will be the work of
genius, no matter the category,
For i am nothing but man, dreamer
and worker alike, thus allow me to
be man, worker, and dreamer, all
the days of my life until eternity,
Mock me and laugh at my name in
hopes of protecting your own
insecurities yet do not hate me
when the work and dreams of myself
Become the foundation of my bread
and the core of my happiness,
As work is never finished and
dreams are never ending in this life,
I embrace the fact of being a product
of both, for I too will adopt this
perseverance, and dream and work
my best, until it becomes greatness...
I have a question
How qualified is he?
Is it based on how he looks?
Is it that I’m supposed to be your cook?
Are you hating on me because I wrote books?
Oh he got his own CD
I’m telling you he isn’t as qualified as I.
Your actions
Tell me
That you’re behind half of a century
Wow this mess is crazy
You got a degree
And replaced me
With someone half as qualified
All because we don’t have the same color eyes
Ooh we you can’t see that God made me
As qualified as anyone would be
He died for that you dealing with
More than a century ago.
Well Jesus is knocking open your do’
So you won’t be hating no more.
Dear Diary, the crazies were out at work today,
I smiled a fake smile, wishing they'd go away.
They complain about prices and they whine just like fools.
I'm just a cashier, I don't make the rules.
They tell me they think our prices too high.
Sure I can control that, ya, when pigs fly.
They tell me about all their aches and their pains
And could I please hurry up, as they bang with their canes.
They ask the price of every item I scan
Hoping there's a mistake, it's part of their plan
To prove that the stores are robbing them blind.
They scrutinize the receipt, just hoping to find
Any excuse at all to just throw a fit.
My tongue's always sore from where it's been bit.
When the full moon is nigh it gets even worse,
The strange ones get stranger, like under a curse.
Now don't get the wrong idea of just what I meant.
Dear Diary, it's only to you that I vent.
Yes Dear Diary the place is really a zoo,
But I love my job......so what can you do?
you tell me one thing then you say another
I do all the work, why do i bother?
I know deep down you really don't care
even though I try you are just not fair
It drives me crazy I am losing my mind
I am not falling its you pushing me behind
you are quick to point out what my work lacks
But I don't even care because I am fighting back
I am sick of all the depression that lays in me
I blame the college for the world to see
It wasn't a waste though I gained lots
From Emma's innocent mind to Andy's evil plots
To chloe the nutter who knows who she is
To elise the genius the queen of the quiz
I gained the experience and I learned from the pain
that is where this comes from for readers, to entertain
I like to exercise my mind, but how I hate to work.
Whatever needs exertion is the action that I shirk.
Labor with the brain is fine. I do it all the time.
How I love to sit and read or think of words that rhyme.
But send me to the bathroom with a brush so that I'll scrub,
and I'll barely rub the ring off. Then I'll lie there in the tub.
Peek inside; you'll find me, a novel in one hand,
resting as I'm soaking in my own little Bubble Land.
Clean the oven? What a joke. The most that I can stand
is loading up the wash machine (a task that's merely bland).
Maybe run the vacuum once a week across the floor,
and quickly dab where dust is bad; most stuff I ignore.
As my jobs all pile up, housework's even more a chore.
Why must work that's physical be such a dreadful bore?
My well-ingrained aversion to utilizing muscle
does have one exception: at the gym I like to hustle.
To kick box is so fun although it makes me sweaty.
Step and dance are choreographed. For those I'm always ready.
But I wish that just as quickly as from running on a tread
I could burn up calories doing workouts in my head!
I love to get a job in year 2010.
I looked every newspaper in my way that I could get the news about money paying job that
looks like a good thing. Hope was all I had so I kept looking.
But I am getting hopeless not finding any thing. I am feeling scared that I am living in day
light, but it looks like a bad dream. It sounds sad, I feel like breaking into tears. Sharing
makes me feel better, which is a real feeling.
But how can I give up ? When some thing says wait for the bad times to end. Also it says it
will be a lesson that will make me stronger because I lived. Smarter because that I learned.
And proud of how tough I am made.
I don't care anymore. You are the most wonderful thing I've ever seen in my life.
Everytime you look at me I want to explode. You're doing some sort of yoga move in front
of me which you claim not to be yoga with your 15-year-old autistic client, rubbing your feet
into his hand, bending over him between a giant cushy yellow soft-leathered cylinder, your
hair dangling over him, now up in a pony-tail as you resituate your thighs, steadied and
jeaned in that young and smart physique, a show of craving futures for my sitting nature,
not more than two feet away.
I will love you from afar with light beams if I must. We'll be left to devour each other with
our eyes. In hot-quick glances.
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