Poetic Justice (Full Version)

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Eukara Vox -> Poetic Justice (6/25/2008 22:20:06)

Just so everyone knows, I am using poems written by Clyde. You will realize why shortly. This is the PM he sent me to clarify that I do have his permission to use his poetry.
quote:

You have my permission to use my Poetry in your work Eukara. If any questions or concerns should arise then anyone is more then welcome to PM Me to clear any issues.


Part 1

Clyde’s knees bounced in an unruly rhythm as he watched the second hand slowly make its way around the clock’s face. Ten more minutes until the end of the day. Why can’t this clock move faster? His eyes moved from the clock face, tracing the edge of the whiteboard, and chanced upon a girl that sat two rows in front of him. She was always quiet; she didn't ever move much and never spoke. It was understandable, though. Anytime she tried to talk, answer a question or bring any attention to herself, a group of girls a row across made snide remarks. The reasons behind the abuse were never apparent to Clyde. The girl was nice, intelligent and dressed well. She never picked on anyone and certainly didn’t act as if she was better than everyone else. Yet day after day, it was the same old thing.

“Why don’t you tell us another one of your rousing stories?” one of the girls chided. “Perhaps you can tell us some more about places that don’t exist. Much like your social life.”

Another laughed under her breath, “Yeah, you think you are so smart, but all you are is a pathetic loner who has nothing else to do but study.”

Both girls looked to the smirking brunette in the center of group. Apparently, she was the ringleader, for every one of the girls around her went out of their way to impress her. She nodded her head and the two rude girls smiled, pleased with themselves. The victim merely sat alone, head down in order to avoid eye contact.

The bell rang, causing Clyde to jump, startled. I’m so tired of people who judge. His thoughts carried him along the halls until he arrived at the bus. They think they know what they are doing, looking into your soul as if they know you. But really they know nothing at all. He walked up the steps into the bus and took his regular seat. His thoughts kept going back to the girl in class. Suddenly he felt ashamed, for he didn’t even know her name. He realized that he was just as much the problem as the girls who teased her. Tomorrow, I will talk to her.

The bus bumped along the road; the uneven bouncing and jostling tugged at his mind and he looked out the window. I guess if I do talk to her, I can reassure her that those girls mean nothing. That there is nothing true to their words and that she shouldn’t take what they say personally. The bus bumped along some more and Clyde couldn’t get that idea out of his head. You know me…I will tell you the truth and you only need to… Clyde unzipped his backpack, ripping out a notebook and started writing.

You know me....
I will tell you the truth
and you only need to see
just look at your life
and realize and don’t take it personally

He looked at the words but didn't like it. The thought was good but something wasn't right. He repeated it over and over in his mind until a few words popped up here and there, making it sound better in his own head. Looking up, Clyde saw the giant Blue Spruce that shaded his neighbor's yard and knew his stop was soon. Frantically, he edited the stanza.

You know me....
I will I'll tell you the truth in these very words
and all you only need to have to do is see
just look at your life and realize say it's absurd
and don’t take it everything personally

The bus came to a slow stop and Clyde jumped up from his seat and ran down the steps. He flew through the door and into his room and shut the door. Emptying his stuff onto the floor, he grabbed his laptop and leaned against the wall. As soon as he was settled, he opened up a new word document and typed the revised stanza.

You know me....
I'll tell you in these very words
and all you have to do is see
look at your life and say it's absurd
and don’t take everything personally

Well, that’s a start. I need something here, it is too quiet. Scrolling through the music on his laptop, Clyde selected “Hit the Floor” by Linkin Park. The music reverberated through him and when Shinoda’s hushed voice began to sing, something clicked. He twisted his mouth in thought and then pictured the girl, head down and avoiding eye contact. Picking up his notebook, he thought for a minute about how she felt, all the while listening to the lyrics of “Hit the Floor.” Suddenly, his hand flew across the page, writing the next stanza. Happy with it, he typed it out.

They look deep down...
into your soul
and think you’re out of line
torturing you is their goal
they think they're all fine

He smiled at the thought of being able to tell those girls off. Who do they think they are? It’s horrible that people will do such things for the approval of someone they think is great. Clyde blinked and remembered his thoughts from earlier when he watched the scene and started writing again.

I’m so tired....
Of everyone who enjoys judging people
And admire the ones who are wrong
and always holding a grudge
as if only they belong

He shook his head. That is all off, no real rhythm or flow. What can I do? His pen tapped on the paper and he concentrated, editing and changing some things around.

I’m so tired....
Of everyone who enjoys judging those people who like to judge
And admire the ones who are wrong always pick the wrong to be admired,
and always holding gotta hold a grudge
as if only they belong acting like their way is only required.

Clyde typed the revised stanza into the document and hit save. Last thing he needed was to accidentally lose his work. Glancing at the clock he figured he could put off homework for another forty-five minutes. Taking a deep breath he started writing, though this stanza took a bit longer than the previous ones. He read over it and made a few adjustments before typing the final product.

You search for the solution...
trying as your find your way
Then you go through evolution
ignoring and ignore everything they say
for their words are like pollution.

You search for the solution...
as your find your way
you go through evolution
and ignore everything they say
for their words are like pollution.

Smiling, Clyde knew that this poem was done. He just needed one more stanza to complete the poem and then he could work on his science homework. He pictured himself standing in front of the bombshell that lead the pack of girls and smirking. They were just a bunch of insecure girls who knew nothing. They had no right…

He wrote quickly, stopping here and there, making changes to the third line and typed out the end.

You have no say...
because we are what we choose to be
and this is our way
and our very own destiny
It's not your right to push us away.

Smiling, he looked at the poem and quickly added a title: We Are Who We Are. Hitting the save button and closing his laptop, Clyde drug out his science textbook and notes and began to work on his homework. The notebook with his scribbling lay underneath the folders and spirals from school and by the time Clyde was finished with his homework, he had forgotten about the poem.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~


The next day, Clyde saw the girl from last class period in the halls, though she looked somewhat different. She looked up more and smiled a few times at the people who passed her by. Clyde shook his head as he headed to math class, wondering what had happened to her after school yesterday that made her look so...confident. After lunch, Clyde talked himself into approaching the girl in the next class that they shared. The brunette and her crew were not in that room, so he felt better about introducing himself.

Before the bell rang, he walked by her desk and spoke. “Hey! My name is Clyde. We have last period together - science. I sit in the back of class and have noticed you. You know a lot."

She blushed and smiled at Clyde just as the bell rang. Though there was no time for conversation, Clyde felt better about her and everything he had seen yesterday. If anything, at least she knew there was one nice person in class with her.

Last period came around and Clyde entered the classroom just as the brunette and her crew started in on the girl. He passed by her desk, cutting off her view of the group and smiled. Clyde caught her smile back as he was pushed from behind by another student. He sat at his desk and watched the interaction between her and the little clique.

“Look at you! She smiles today. I bet there is a special someone in her life,” the brunette quipped.

“Come on, like nerds actually get dates!” one of the girls laughed. “I bet all that there is to that smile is her attempt at trying to make us go away. As if!”

“Yeah, like we would. Anyway, I don't think even the nerds would go for her.” The brown-haired girl winked at her friends. “What? Don’t you want to be like us? Come on, we are the best there is; surely you desire to be popular and loved? And you won’t get that unless you join us.”

One of her tagalongs rolled her eyes, “Don’t tease her. I mean, she could never, ever be as good as you. Why wave such status in her face if you already know she isn’t good enough.”

Clyde steamed as he watched the display. Why must they do that? How can anyone be so awful to another human being—

“—you know, I’ve figured out something. You are nothing and I can easily ignore everything you say. You see, I am who I am. Either accept it or not; I don’t care. You have no right to push me.”

~~~~~~****~~~~~~


Riding the bus home, Clyde mused over what had happened in class. That was interesting; she seemed so different, so confident, so sure of what she was saying. If I didn’t know better, I would think a twin sat in her place today.





Eukara Vox -> RE: Poetic Justice (7/1/2008 17:18:59)

Backpack slung over one shoulder, Clyde slowly walked down the steps and got off of the bus. In the back of his mind, he thought about his classmate in science and the poem he wrote. Man, that turned out great. Shame it was inspired by such awful circumstances. Just thinking about the brunette made his blood boil.

Resigning himself to another day of torture, Clyde began the short hike from the bus to the double glass doors that swallowed helpless students as they walked through. He saw the girl from science class ascend the dirty concrete steps, carefully keeping clear of the mob by staying close to the blue metallic railing. Her long black hair was down, hanging way past her waist. Clyde was suddenly afraid that her petite frame would be lost in the mass of students rushing up the steps.

“…” Clyde began to call out to her, but realized that he still didn’t know her name. Stupid! Weren’t you supposed to do that yesterday? he chided himself, picking up the pace to intercept her before she made it inside.

A blur of movement cut Clyde off from his intended goal. The letter jackets stood in front of him, joking around and tossing a basketball to each other. As they made their way towards the glass doors, the basketball began to travel more erratically, nearly hitting a few unfortunate students who were in the way.

The tallest of the three begged for the ball as he took the steps two at a time. Despite his height, the ball was tossed too high for him. In his effort to catch the ball, the jock jumped into Clyde’s classmate, pinning her painfully against the railing.

“Hey Jake! I think we have ourselves a victim of foul play,” one of the jackets laughed.

The second guy tried to hide a snide look that flashed across his face. “Yeah, Jake. You hit her so hard that you pushed her off the ground and against the top rail.”

Jake looked over his shoulder at the girl he had pinned against the railing. “Well, lookie here. There is someone behind me.”

Jake rocked backwards slightly, causing the girl to grimace as she was crushed beneath his weight. Using her body, Jake pushed off and forward, righting himself and smoothly turned around. In one sweeping motion, he caught Clyde’s classmate before she fell.

Clyde could see the tears welling up in her eyes, showing just how much pain she was in. He watched the jock handle her, suddenly wary of the situation. Something seems off. I don’t like this. Methodically, Jake brushed off her shoulders, his hands traveling dangerously close to the girl’s chest. One of the other guys winked at Jake and smiled.

“I am very sorry for that. My friend seemed to have forgotten how tall I am. I mean, I am tall. You know, it makes being the number one center in the district that much easier.” Jakes hands seemed to be tracing the seams of the girl’s bra and she began to shake. “Perhaps…tall is something you appreciate?”

Snickering, Jake’s friends high-fived each other and leered at the girl. Jake leaned forward, his hands dropping down her back. “Perhaps next you decide to make my girlfriend look bad in class,” he whispered into her ear, “you will think twice about your actions.”

Jakes hand dropped to her butt and he grabbed it roughly and laughed out loud. “Lookie here boys, seems like the little mouse enjoys a bit of action!”

Clyde watched his classmate whimpered and squirmed, trying desperately to get herself free. But Clyde knew Jake well. He wasn’t just a great basketball player; he was also one of the strongest guys in school. There was no way she was going to get free and he could see defeat written all over her face. Looking around at the rest of the student, Clyde saw that most of them raced by, as if trying to pretend that nothing was happening. Others stopped and watched, but did nothing to help her. Why would they? It would just be inviting harassment into their lives.

Fed up with the scene, Clyde strode forward, his eyes trained on Jake. As he approached the small group, Clyde sidestepped enough to ram his shoulder into the basketball player. The impact caused Jake to stumble slightly and he turned his head, searching for the person responsible.

As his eyes searched, the girl slipped away, rushing into the building. Satisfied, Clyde hurried in after her, hoping to catch up to his classmate. Once inside, he couldn’t find her, though he searched diligently. Walking through the atrium, he looked for her amidst the sea of multicolored heads. Instead, his sweeping gaze met Jake’s eyes. They paused briefly and Clyde was aware that Jake knew.

The first bell rang, sending Clyde to his locker to retrieve his books for math. As he deftly slid into his desk in the back of the classroom, the second bell rang. Immediately his teacher began the lecture on this morning’s topic, polynomials. Clyde groaned inwardly. I hate this class and if I could, would find a way to get out of it. Ten minutes into the lecture, he could feel his eyelids getting heavier and decided to open up his notebook to a fresh sheet of paper. He watched, interested, as his hand began to fill in the open space.

Ahh, that is much better. Slowly, his doodling began to take on a more organized appearance. Thoughts of the morning intruded on his peace, frustrating Clyde immensely. Coloring his mood, the morning’s event also made their way onto the page in front of him. At first it was merely the humiliation of his classmate until he realized that he had drawn the basketball smashing into Jake’s face. Clyde forced himself to look at the picture blank-faced. If Ms. Blanke sees me smile in the least, I’m busted. His satisfaction regarding the first sketch led him to continue.

The next unfolding moments revealed a basketball court; a boy stood in the middle amidst fans. He scowled, realizing that it was Jake standing there. I seriously hate this guy. Yet, even though he is a jerk, people still clamour for his attention. He drew the guys and girls, an x placed across their faces where their eyes should be, closely standing around the basketball star. Each new frame in his artistic story found Jake’s adoring fans pushed farther and farther back from their idol. Eventually, no one stood on the court except Jake, who was declaring his awesomeness.

“As entertaining as that is,” a guy’s voice whispered, “you may want to make sure Ms. Blanke doesn’t see it as she makes her rounds.”

Clyde’s head shot up, looking around the room for his teacher.

“The board, Clyde! Hurry up,” hissed the guy under his breath and then coughed to cover up his assistance.

Trying not to be obvious, yet hurrying his actions, Clyde turned to the page written up on the board. Just as Ms. Blanke stepped beside his desk, Clyde began to write the first practice problem. She stood there for a few moments as Clyde willed her to move on. Eventually, the teacher moved on to the next student and Clyde exhaled quietly. Ignoring his need to draw, Clyde finished the classwork, working until the bell rang.

Glancing sideways, Clyde nodded towards the guy that sat next to him. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“No problem. Though, from the look on your face, you must hate that guy in the middle.” He walked off, leaving Clyde with his thoughts.

Gathering his things and shaking his head, Clyde left the room berating himself. The more I think of him, the more he annoys me. All that will do is make him something more to me in the end. That is the last thing I need right now. Deciding there were more things to think about, he set his mind on his next class – English.

The rest of the day continued quietly as each class flew by. Clyde watched the clock, not because he was eager to go home, but because deep down inside, he needed to know if his classmate was alright. As the time neared for the bell to sound, taking him to science, the principal came on over the intercom.

“Just a reminder, students: Today, we are having a pep rally to send off our basketball team to their first playoff game. Attendance by all students is required in the gymnasium.”

Sinking back into his seat, Clyde inwardly groaned. Just great. I now have to go to a Jake worshipping service before going home today. The bell rang and Clyde slowly pulled his books off of the desk and made his way towards to door. Clyde's almost slothful pace caused several students to slam into him as they scrambled to get out of the classroom and into the gym. Stopping at his locker, Clyde shoved his books and homework into his backpack and made his way into the gym. Immediately, he took a seat as close to the door and away from Jake as possible.

Scanning the seats, he finally found her, hunched down as if trying to make herself small and insignificant. A few people looked her way and laughed, turning her cheeks a slight pink in response. The basketball team ran out onto the court and the student body went nuts. Clyde watched them do their warm-up routine, finally stopping at center court and standing at attention. The principal announced the coach, who in turn announced each team member, ending with Jake. Jake ran out and bowed to the crowd, eliciting cheers from everyone and moans from Clyde.

Clyde’s eyes narrowed as he watched Jake soak up the adoration. His smug looked made Clyde ill. Clyde smiled slightly as he remembered his drawing from this morning. A basketball in the face would be nice. Suddenly, his classmate got up, tears in her eyes, and left the building. Clyde pulled his backpack on his back and rushed out after her. As he left, one of Jake’s classmates passed him the ball for a lay-up. A collective gasp followed Clyde out of the gym.





Eukara Vox -> RE: Poetic Justice (8/5/2008 21:51:58)

Part 3

Running after his classmate proved difficult, as she had disappeared almost immediately. He wove between the buses, finally spotting her already quite a ways down the street. Sprinting across the parking lot, Clyde pushed hard to catch up to her. Relief washed over his face as he realized that she had slowed down a bit. Either she hears me coming or she is just happy to be far from school. Either way, thank goodness she slowed down.

“Hey! Wait up!” he called out, slightly winded.

She turned halfway and looked at him, gradually slowing her step until she came to stop. “Clyde? What are you doing? Leaving campus will get you into trouble.”

“Doesn’t matter. Besides, I thought that you may like some friendly company about now.” Clyde walked beside her, waiting for her to make the next move.

“I think that I have had enough ‘friendly’ company today.” Her voice was bitter, causing Clyde to cringe inwardly

Idiot. “Bad choice of words. I apologize.”

The girl stopped in her tracks; her head hung. Dark hair drifted loosely over her face, obscuring Clyde’s sight of her eyes. He passed her slightly and then turned so that he could look her in the eyes. Slowly, her shoulders began to sag and her backpack slid down her arm.

Wide-eyed, Clyde realized that she was crying. He shifted his weight onto one foot then the other, trying to figure out what to do. Do I talk? Dare I touch her? He watched tears fall from her cheeks and splash on the concrete by his foot. Do something, idiot!

Cautiously, Clyde reached out and touched his classmate’s arm. “I will not pretend that I know how you feel. And I won’t tell you that I understand, because I can’t.” She lifted her head and looked at Clyde. Her tear stained cheeks broke his heart. Looking over her shoulders back at the school, he caught sight of the students now loading onto the buses. “Let me walk you home.”

Blinking, she mutely nodded and started walking again. They walked in silence for a few minutes and Clyde tried desperately to think of something to say.

“So, where do you—”
“I wanted to tell you—”

Both Clyde and his classmate laughed at their awkward, but simultaneous, attempt to break the silence. “You first,” Clyde said smiling. “Though, I think I need to know your name first.”

“Oh!” the girl blushed slightly. “My name is Odessa. I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciate how nice you’ve been to me.”

How nice I’ve been? “I haven’t done much, Odessa.” He looked at the sidewalk, feeling awkward.

“But you have, Clyde. You’ve been nice when others haven’t.” Odessa adjusted her backpack, moving it to her other shoulder. “If not for you, I don’t know where I would be right now.”

Slightly shocked at the underlying message that could be in her words, Clyde looked at her and smiled. “Well, good thing I am me, huh?”

Odessa giggled and visibly relaxed, giving Clyde reason to do the same. “So what were you going to say?”

“Well, I was going to ask how much further, but then realized that sounded awfully impolite. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to get rid of you so quickly. So how about…What subjects do you like? I mean, I only see you in science,” Clyde asked, hitching his backpack up more. “You seem to like that class and you can answer every question, even if you don’t do it vocally.”

Groaning, Odessa kicked a rock in the middle of her path. “Is it that obvious? I am such a nerd.”

“No, wait! That’s not what I meant.” Way to go, Clyde. Brilliant work. “I meant that I can tell you know the answers because you twirl your pencil instead of raising your hand.” Ohhh, that’s better. Now I sound like a stalker. If he could smack himself in the forehead about now, he would.

“…I guess I do, huh? Better to do that than raise my hand and endure Corina’s harassment.” Sighing, Odessa shook her head and walked a few steps before continuing. “I have every class with her and only one with you. I wish it were the other way around.”

They walked quietly for a few moments, each trying to think of what to say. Looking around him, Clyde realized he had never come this way from school. It was a nice walk, but by now he realized that Odessa lived a ways from school. As he looked around, he heard the roar of a car approaching too fast and it swerved as the curb came up too quickly for the driver to handle. Clyde pushed Odessa away from the road and they both fell into the grass. Though the car didn’t careen up onto the sidewalk, it came dangerously close. The morons driving yelled out obscenely and gunned it down the road, leaving the two shaken.

“How on earth does someone like that ever earn a license?” Odessa asked, trying to breathe normally. When she tried to get up, her hand pushed off of a notebook instead of the ground. Looking down, she saw Clyde’s doodle of Jake. “Ooo, what is that?”

At first, Clyde tried to take the notebook from Odessa. It was apparent that he was not going to get it back, so sat up, sighing. He released his hold and Odessa flipped through the few pages that were drawn on and laughed. “So this is what you do when you sit in the back of the classroom.” Thumbing the corners of a few pages, she set the little cartoon that Clyde had drawn in motion, showing the basketball hitting Jake in the face. “This is great!”

“You think so?” Clyde grinned and took the notebook. “I was really mad about today and, well, you see what happened.” Getting to his feet, he offered Odessa his hand. “Shall we continue towards your house?”

Odessa took his hand and laughed as he pulled her up. “You know what, Clyde? I live just over the hill ahead. The fact you have already walked me a mile and a half is admirable and very sweet. I think I can manage the rest of the way.”

“You sure, Odessa?” Clyde glances into her eyes, seeing that she was still troubled.

Nodding, Odessa took a few steps towards the hill and her home. She turned and smiled. “I am, Clyde, thanks to you.” Odessa turned back towards her house and walked away with a slight bounce in her step. Smiling to himself, Clyde turned back and headed towards his house deep in thought.




Eukara Vox -> RE: Poetic Justice (8/25/2008 1:02:37)

English homework finished, Clyde slipped his earphones on and turned up This Providence. He laid back on his bed and stared at the ceiling, going over the day’s events. I swear, no one knows when to quit, when to back down, when to think about others before themselves. It’s as if this world has decided that only the individual matters, that perfection of me is better than loving your neighbor.

Clyde bolted upright, eyes wide and scrambled off his bed to get his laptop. Scowling at the bookshelf, he realized it was gone and knew exactly who had it. Stupid kid. Why can’t my brother keep his hands off my stuff! No matter, I have to get this on paper. Bending over his desk, Clyde fished out his notebook from his backpack and dove back onto his bed. He grabbed the pencil from the side table by his bed and opened the notebook. In the process he came across his cartoons again and chuckled.

Tearing the pages from his notebook, Clyde laid them out on his bed so he could see everything. I can’t get over how much Odessa liked these. Well, at least I made her laugh. Concentrating on the comic sequence of Kyle’s head getting so big that everyone was pushed away, an idea came to him. Picking up his pencil, he smiled knowingly, for the perfect beginning to the poem was screaming in his mind had made itself known.

A drawing on a page,
yet now the masterpiece.
The more you hate,
the more he increases.

Trust me,
his ego won’t fit.
There’s no room,
Except for its pit.

Clyde stopped, though his mind objected. I like it, but it needs something. The cartoon is more a doodle than a true drawing…

Just a drawing doodle on onto a page,
yet but now the a masterpiece.
But the more you start to hate,
the more he his value starts to increases.

Much better. Can't have him be the masterpiece. I don't want him to think too highly of himself. Clyde laughed out loud and rolled his eyes. And if you start hating him, his value starts to increase because he is now more regarded. Yeah, that makes more sense. Scrutinizing the next stanza caused Clyde to see a glaring error.

"Humpf! Not sarcastic enough. I should really fix this," he said to no one in particular.

The scuffle of footsteps whispered outside his door and Clyde leaned out, glancing at the space beneath it. He saw a shadow paused outside of the entrance to his room that seemed to have become stationary. "Clyde? Who are you talking to?" he heard his father yell through the wooden door.

"...No one. Just...thinking out loud for a project, that's all." I really need to watch myself. Not that he would care, but I am supposed to be working on my math homework.

"Alright, Son. Just checking, that's all. You're brother is having issues with his schoolwork. Talk to him, please." The scuffling moved down the hall slowly and Clyde waited until the quiet sounds descended the stairs. His father's retreat left Clyde without having to respond to his father's request. Like Jack would listen, anyway. Back to the sarcasm!

Oh no, trust me,
his this ego just won't fit.
There's It has no room
except for its heavenly pit.

Clyde smiled at his edited, newer version of the introduction. Now for the meat to the poem. THinking about the day's events, the past trouble for Idessa and his own dislike for the social stratus of his school, Clyde dug in and let his pen take over.

There obnoxious snickers,
turn into something new.
Go beyond the bicker,
see what more is brought.

And again he goes on
another "I'm perfect" rant.
But if you don't know
here's my quote with no slant:

"This world has no use
for a fool like you.
But I'll pretend -
like I have lots to do."

"To home you go
to dream of social swirls.
That when you wake,
You're in this "Perfect World."


Clyde propped his head on one arm as he laid on his bed, skimming the new stanzas briefly. Not bad, I guess. A few places look decent, but the stanzas seem off. Like the first one; the rhyme is in the wrong lines. Though...gah, I can't spell either! Oh well, I don't need that word anyway.

There An obnoxious snicker
Turns into something a whole new thing.
Go Beyond the bicker
See what there's even more is brought to bring.

Better...Now the next is supposed to sound like a lesson, not a suggestions. Clyde scribbled and crossed through, determined to change the tone.

And again Here he goes on yet again
onto another "I'm so perfect" rant.
But if Just in case you don't know,
here's my a quote with on no slant:

Well, it sounds better. The next stanza must have attitude! It is way too formal for what I am trying ot get across. A little bad grammar here, a little more attitude there...

"This world has no use don't need,
for a fool like you.
But I'll I like pretending -
like I have lot's to do."

Tapping his pencil against his head, Clyde looked over the last stanza. The ending was fine, but in his heart he knew it wasn't the message he wanted to convey. The way he wrote it seemed like he was resigned to the way things were, not necessarily pointing the finger. I can't end it like this. It defeats the entire point of the poem!

Clyde roughly drew and X over the offending stanza. Using it as a loose template, he rewrote the stanza completely.

"So go home tonight,
dream about this social swirl.
And when you wake up,
you'll be in this I'mperfect world."


"Done," he sighed and laid face flat against the notebook. After a few seconds he looked up towards his bookshelf and jumped off his bed. "Jack!" Clyde yelled as he stomped towards his door. He jerked his door open and stuck his head out of his room. "Jack! I want my laptop, NOW!"

The emphasis on "now" caused his younger brother's head to pop up at the base of the stairs. "I'm using it."

Swiftly moving towards towards the top of the stairs, Clyde raised an eyebrow and growled down at his sibling. "I don't give a rip if the President of the United States is using my laptop right now. It is mine and you went into my room to steal it!"

Jack looked up at Clyde incredulously, waving the laptop in the air. "You liar. It was sitting in the living room, all alone, neglected, hurting...I came along and sav--"

"Oh, shut up, you moron!" Clyde yelled as he made his way down the stairs two steps at a time. As he jumped onto the final before his brother, their father appeared from around the corner.

"Enough, both of you! My gosh, to think a family lives here, somewhere. If you find it," he seethed, "tell it that I am searching for it fervently."

Clyde glared at his brother and spoke. "Dad, my laptop never, ever leaves my room unless I need it for school. Therefore, Jack went into my room, without my permission and took it."

'Oh for the love of...Give Clyde his laptop and stay out of his room," their father sighed. "Seriously, get your butt back intot he living rooma nd get to work. I do not want another teacher conference Jack. Clyde, the yelling was not necessary, nor was the bounding down the stairs like an elephant on a rampage."

Perhaps there was an elephant on a rampage... Jack gave Clyde the laptop reluctantly, gripping it so that Clyde couldn't just slip it out of his brother's hands. Clyde narrowed his eyes at Jack, then nodded briefly towards his father. As he climbed back to his room, he answered his father. "Yes, Sir."

Clyde closed the door behind him and walked back to his bed. He sat for a moment just looking at his newest poem. He opened up the document that had the last poem he wrote that had Odessa at the center of its inspiration. Quietly he typed out the finished product and hit save.

I'mPerfect Moment

Just a doodle onto a page,
but now a masterpiece.
But the more you start to hate,
the more his value starts to increase.

Oh no, trust me,
this ego just won't fit.
It has no room,
except for its heavenly pit.

An obnoxious snicker,
turns into a whole new thing.
Beyond the bicker,
there's even more to bring.

Here he goes yet again,
onto another "I'm so perfect," rant.
Just in case you don't know,
a here's a quote on no slant...

"This world don't need,
a fool like you,
but I like pretending-
like I have lots to do."

"So go home tonight,
dream about this social swirl.
And when you wake up,
you'll be in this I'mperfect world."


He pulled out his math book from his backpack and sighed audibly. It wasn't his favorite subject, but it was homework. He swore under his breath. Teachers have one goal in life. Make every student as miserable as they can.




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