Drunken Poetry

I was drinking at a friend's house last night and we were doing spontaneous writing. I eventually decided to write some poetry. I don't think it's all that bad either. Keep in mind I wrote all these short poems in less than an hour and I was drinking beer at the time. Here they are:

This one is my favourite of the bunch, but was the third one that I wrote:

"Why?"

Love. It usually ends in pain. But we keep going back to it anyway. Why? Because nothing rivals it. I will take every pain imaginable for the possibility of love. Why? Because nothing rivals it.


"Dancer"

To dance is to dream and to dream is to dance. Is the dreamer the dancer or the dancer the dreamer? Ah, I suppose time will tell. At least we're still dancing. Dance you dreamer. Dance.


This next one never started out as a poem, but it kind of ended up as one:

"Me"

I've never been understood. In the end, that's never really bothered me. Not much anyway. It has made life a little more difficult though. But so what? Difficulty makes you think. Thinking. Is that a good thing? I hope so. It's all I seem to be able to do. What I can tell you is that as much as I am misunderstood, anyone that takes the time to know me learns to love me. That's a good thing isn't it? I think so. I love me. That's the important thing. The rest of the world can catch up to me later.


"Anyway"

No matter how much life gets f#cked upI love it anyway. How crazy is that? I don't care. I love it anyway.


"Emotions"

Emotions are real. It doesn't matter if they are warranted or not. The emotions are still real.