A Poem Not Wanted
The things I write are always in the same form. They sound the same, and look the same. I'm officially sick of writing those poems with their witty format and precise topic. So I hope you will notice that this particular poem (if you wish to call it that) is in the graceful shape of a blob. It holds no form, has no pattern, and is read to the most random of rhythms. Really though, I'm quite pleased with this new setting. It's a change of direction, and has complete new scenery. I feel like Alice when she falls down the rabbit hole, or Harry Potter when he arrives at Hogwarts. It's so new that, in fact, I may even dare not to reread it at the end to make sure it actually flows. Scandalous, I know. So now that you have endured this most likely boring story, dear reader I do let you go.