About
a week or two ago, we were discussing this 1933 song, Gloomy Sunday.
The piece was composed by a Hungarian named Rezső Seress and is the
stuff of urban legends mainly because of its association with a
string of suicides and suicide attempts.
And
so, aiming for a dark and twisted humor here, (and partly because I'm
procrastinating badly on academic matters) I decided to try my
incompetent hand on poetry writing. Go ahead say it.. “Daaaaaammmnnn
girrrrrl... this is some weird emo, pseudo-goth sh*t.” Yeah, I
know. But it's the best I can manage, so yeah.
Here
I sit
gravely
terrified
of
my mind who's
doing
nothing
The
nothingness
which
are its deeds
result
to things surprising.
For
in those deeds of idleness,
insidious
thoughts unfold
I
see myself
succumb
to ropes
my
flawless neck it holds
***
In
times I feel
like
Atlas,
I
regret a thought
I
make
The
pain is not
the
hardest part
but
the crying in
my
wake
***
I
know of a girl
named
Daisy
whose
eyes can rival pearls
She
had it all,
she
always caught
looks
both from boys and girls
A
week before our
graduation
Li'l
Daisy seemed aghast
She
shivered like
she's
always cold
when
Mr. Sheers walks past
There's
something wrong
I
wondered why
but
didn't bother ask
She'd
turn me down
anyway
She's
got too much friends
for
that
But
on our last
day
of school
Pretty
Daisy was nowhere present
A
hollow feeling
covered
me
I
should not have stayed all silent
Because
as our batch
tossed
forth our hats
charging
futures with excitement
Poor
Daisy won't be
one
of us
All
she's got's a mouth with a bullet
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