Headphones is a rendition of childishness - if merely just small and insignificant - displayed from me toward my ex-girlfriend. The effect she has had on me for ther last four is noticeable, but more so in my other works. I house a 28 piece collection of poetry as a first try in this mode of creativity, with the hope of pursuing creative writing at university next year.

Any criticism is good, no the poem is not 'lolfag', no I'm not gay. I know this is poetry and not songwriting, so flaming on this discrepancy will be ignored.



Staring blindly toward the grey, white and
Of the roads and houses.
The cars spinning past; a whirling dervish -
And the bus arrived.

The comfy seat, friends close by
And the scummy floor hoarding acres of frothy litter,
And Memories.

Upon the moment she arrived and sat
Suggestively on my friend's
The headphones shied toward and blocked the tunnel were it would speak:
And a high pitched wail.
Alas, for what kind of reward is
Social reclusion
And what kind of reward is denial

Neither me nor her - in collection - know.
Life is precious,
So why waste time mouthing off shit with your every breath:
Don't you know there is no life after death.
Last edited by A7X666 at Feb 19, 2009,
this is pretty cool man.
and dont even worry about people who think poetry is gay.
Bob Dylan was a poet so go figure