Poems/boredom.

Well since Thursday I've been really sick and feeling miserable, which, as everyone knows, causes major boredom. It's been hard to sleep (nothing new), so I've tried watching movies, which, after watching The Hangover like 3 times in one night kind of gets boring. I even got bored of the Chiller station, which had a marathon of my favorite TV show for 11 hours last night. Even after all that; boredom. So I picked up a pen and a notebook and decided to just write whatever came into my mind. This resulted in me writing 16 poems, and my fingers majorly cramping. Here is one of the best poems I wrote:

Black
By Ashley P.


They say black isn't a color;
it is simply the absence of light.

So if black is nothing,
and we use it for the color of evil,
are we not saying that evil is simply that;
Nothing?

If we are saying something as horrid as this;
What are we keeping inside of us?

And, If white is the color of death;
Do explain,
why we use this as the color of happiness?

Do we not want to wish our brides well;
are we bitter, or are we oblivious,
To these subtle little hints we are giving.

Why, again, is black also the color of mourning?

Is death, as evil apparently is,
in our distorted state of mind,
nothing as well?

- xoxo Ashley