See,
      Thy world is a smelting *** of whimsical worldchyme stew,
A goulash that aquire's carrots, beef, potatoes, and other uncanny things,
Well,
        As for me!
                                           I'm its gravy!!!!

You were the best
Among the rest

That's why we're weird together
Cause we do things in another manner
Now you ask, "What's the matter?"

I feel down
My face is in a frown

You two are going
leaving

Our weird antics
And those undeniably numerous frantic

All our laughs filled with glee
Are going to be missed by me

Now I don't want you to be blue
This poem is my greatest THANK YOU

There's a very fine line between
Weirdness and Greatness...

And often the transition
Is undetectable.

We're not meant to hate. I'm sorry but its true, no matter how much we say we hate someone deep down we know we're lying to ourselves.

You know how Love is the best feeling in the world. Don't you think hate is the alternative to when you're broken or something? Because with Love comes butterflies in our tummies, smiles in our faces, happiness and well thoughts of those you love. So with hate comes furry in our tummies, anger in our hearts, pain and memories of those who hurt us.

So does this mean we hate to remember those we love?
Because we don't really want to forget them?
Eh I think the heat is getting to me over here.

Procrastination,
My fair lady,
Why must you compel me
To worship you
When I have so many and so urgent things to do?
Fine. So maybe it is not your fault.
So I'm just lazy. Okay.
But you are so tempting.
Lulling me away
from so many chores
(Or a death by boredom - who can really tell?)
Sometimes you offer me the prettiest of pictures,
Sometimes the funniest of videos,
Other times merely my bed and the ceiling,
But more often books.
Beautiful, beutiful books.
So why should I scold you
For taking my time
When those are the hours
I most lovely spent?