Bri's Own World

You are the same
Just like everyone else
The same clothes
Off the same shelves

The same names plastered
Across your chests
You feel powerful
You think it's the best

Just one phone call
It's better than what it could have been
But in itself, it sucks
Just as bad
Why did it happen?
should I be worried?
Should I be afraid?
What else am I supposed to say?

What have we come to?
Money fills you up with greed
Together we stand weaker
We are the human disease

Trashing all the forests
But not replanting the seed
Fouling up the ozone
We are the human disease

Some think they’re better than others
Most think they’re better than me
Stereotypes lead to suicide
We are the human disease

Not knowing what we’re meant to do
A ring with all the wrong keys
Searching for a purpose
We are the human disease

Material things important
The group who is crowded has three
Everyone feels alone all the time
We are the human disease

This poem is called a sestina... it's organized by the last words in the sentences.... I don't feel like typing the arrangement of the sestets, so... yeah. Here it is...

That girl

There once was a girl

Who was always alone

And the thing that meant everything was time

But before I turn my journal in, I wanted to post these two...

And a side of Fries…

I’m blatantly killing a deer