GUESS WHO TALKED TO DAVEY HAVOK OVER THE PHONE?!

...none other than the slum child herself. She stayed up past the late hours and on to the early hours trying to call the station. After about an hour and a half, they picked up the phone. Haha...I'll bet she was being her bubbly self. I'm sure he was charmed.



PLEASE NOTE: IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHO THE SLUM-CHILD IS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO READ MY PREVIOUS POST ON HER. THEN YOU'LL SEE WHY I PUT A PICTURE OF TIFA TALKING TO A PICTURE OF DAVEY HAVOK...

pbbbbbbbt!

This is a poem I had to write for my English class. Real stupid. And I think I've stressed the definition of "free verse" to its breaking point. That's pretty much all there is to say about it...

Ode to Desolate Mother

I need sleep, you’d say
Of course! You’ve been up since the crack of dawn
And you haven’t known rest since
Who knew that the moment I walked in your presence
That you would just snap?
Did you even consider that I might’ve been having a good day?
That by your prominent sigh of exasperation
You could’ve dissolved my feel-good glow
Into your super-massive vortex of gloom?

Now that you’ve recruited me into your army of misery,
Who should I get next?
Dad? The happy-go-lucky guy?
You should get him
You can make him irritable and moody in a blink of an eye
I’ll provoke the sibling
Now that you’ve recruited me into your army of misery,
Who should I get next?
Dad? The happy-go-lucky guy?
You should get him
You can make him irritable and moody in a blink of an eye
I’ll provoke the sibling

We’re now currently under the extensive dismal, apathetic cloud
Which you have created.
Thanks. A lot.
So now as we go about our gloomy business,
I’d like to point out
MISERY GOES WITH HAPPINESS
LIKE PLAID AND POLKA DOTS.

.....

Mom, I love you.
But next time,
Please let me wallow in my moments of mirth
Before you decide that my garish presence
Must be extinguished.

hmmm....maybe it would have sounded better if I read it to the class...

....
...
....

O.O"""""

nah...