13, they say, is unlucky.
I say it's not. Though this year has been different, it has not been inordinately difficult, and certainly not been unlucky.
My vocabulary has expanded to include both more complex and more (*cough*) colorful words.
I've started a blog.
And started writing really crappy poetry. Luckily my friends tell me its good.
And learned more about the social structure. And learned to see through the virtually opaque lies that lurk within it. And I've done my best to destroy the clever (or not clever) ploys for attention.
Not unlucky. Enlightening.
I've learned of secrets and lies. I've learned of promises broken, and been on both ends of the parasite that is gossip, as well as viewing it from the side. I've seen the damage it can do.
Things that have never occured to me started to. And fantasies drifted off in favor of a harsh reality.
Not unlucky. Bizarre.
The dances we hold so dearly to our hearts turned from games to hormone-fueled horror movies (eww... that was an unfortunate bit of alliteration), full of regrets and rumors.
Not unlucky.
Just 13.
7 comments:
'K, sounds like 13 was ok. Its really more of a rumination though. Hard to tell with poetry, if you've seen some of the weird stuff in The New Yorker.
YAY FUN POEM!! I LIKED IT.. ummm.. u might want it to have more rhythm tho??? just a suggestion
EVERYONE GO READ MY FUNNN BLOG!
your poem isn't really poetic. It's more like a few statements with spaces
hello everyone
13 is not an unlucky number. Oh, you forgot to mention the best part about the number 13: Bar and Bat Mitzvahs.
don't call me a freak... :( that is meannnnnn!
yay, I got a "yay"!
I loved what your poem said, but I agree with carissa in that it could use a little more rythm. BUT I LOVED IT ALL THE SAME.
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