The Curse

--By the Cynic (aka Andrew Miller)--

I was once thinking

(Back when I got sleep)

Of my days and high school

and it did cause me to weep.

Ahh, those days of youth

When I was never tired.

Now it seems I'm always busy

Within this personal hell I'm mired.

Ethics and Physics

Bible and Sociology,

There are so many classes

Oh poor poor me.

If God is with me,

I might get an "A"

If not, to avoid an "F"

I'm going to really have to pay (money, that is, like movie stars).

My friends are cranky

and the professors downright mean,

is it because of a lack of sleep?

Or an overdose of caffine?

I'm so tired. . .

I'm sick of all my thoughttage.

I wanna pack up

and move out to the coffee cottage.

So here it sits,

Like the memory of vinyl.

What must I do

To pass my final?

Gardening

In the garden of our lives

We reap from our seeds.

We show off the flowers

but hide the weeds.

We reap what we sow

and we sow what we reap.

But if our weeds were seen

Would it make people weep?

We act and talk sinfully.

Like we live in a sewer.

But my question is:

Are we flower or manure?

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