Retardation and My School Day

Sometimes I wonder if immaturity is a retardation of the brain
‘Cause, honey, you’re retarded

First glance of you yesterday wanted to make me
Scream with fright but giggle with delight because,
Your hair is now being cast in Brokeback Mountain 2
Your voice is the new Lisa Simpson
And your face is the new Frankenstein
And the movie critiques hail you awful, just as Simon Cowell did

And in the Dead Poets Society, does “carpe diem” mean a thing to you
Or is it just another “death sentence” to you: of the father
Whom you claimed a pedophile, as he lay clutching in his arms his son,
Bellowing out at the top of his lungs, “My son, my son, my poor son!”

How could I not shush you? You heard me, I said quiet and you
You sick fuck, what did you say about my loved ones,
About the children that I have not, and the man whom I haven’t seen with my eyes?

I have nobody left to defend me in person, and I would give a thing to have somebody
But, to tell you the truth, I stand tall; I stand alone, like a solider in rank
Surrounded by many, trusted by all, trusting nobody

Know that, as I lay on the gym floor, nearly weeping tonight from the loss of my game
From the loss of my common mind that
I would wring your neck with a tiny wire and ever so slowly pull it taut
Until it cut you as your words have cut my dignity


Dedicated to Colton,
Hey, thanks buddy for lying around, saying I would rape my own children, rape my friends, just as you raped me of my sanity yesterday. See you tomorrow fuckhead.

To all the nice people:
Help help, unclear anger, killing me inside!!! AUGH!
Vernon, we need to talk about this, I'm highly upset by it, I'll try and be online in the morning to see you.

I agree that the situations of your day and you life at this time are pressurizing. These are great insults, but is this actually a poem? It seems as if, an I can relate, you were trying to write while still packed with emotion, about to snap under the tension. The thing that I've learned, though, is that a lot of people don't make much sense when they're angry - try to avoid rants and go for meaning.

But... RANTING!!! It is the wine of the Gods, it is the motion that make smy soul breathe, it is me.
A ranter.

I'll work more on this... I can see the ultimate "rant bit" and will work on it better after this history assignment.

---Elizabeth gives her word.

Hehehe...

But I must admit, I did like the first two stanzas quite a bit. They were insulting, but in an extremely entertaining way for me, the outsider.