So the curtain begins to close on yet another semester. It's incredibly nostalgic and strange to look back on the past two and a half years of my life and note all the changes. Since I have made the executive decision to only let nostalgia haunt me when I'm feeling rested and mentally capable, I will not discuss such things at length on this blog today. I am not rested--and the only thoughts running through my head are thoughts such as: "Remember to note the picardy third! Beethoven, why do you hate me? Macgamut, I will end you. Exogesis, not Eisogesis..." Really, quite insane. In short; it is finals week, and I am tad stressed. Moving on.
Life is a myriad of choices that
Capitalize on the essence of free will
But those choices we will label 'poor'
Make the next choice
So we pose the question:
Is any choice really unwise if it makes us wiser?
Perhaps mistakes are defined by that we refuse to learn from
And not poor decisions.
Yesterday is like a cloud,
And I wake up in the body of one
I used to know not.
She's grown to be quite the
Lovely young lady
She can hit you in soft spots
Without needing to appologize
If you really deserve it.
But she still decides to
Lend an ear
To those who lavish love.
She goes back to the bedroom
And it's like a fog of yellow
Until she realizes she's been dreaming
Of Band Names, Lilies, and speeches from friends
Who have known the story that ended.
She wakes up and resolves to write the novel
For there is processing to be done.
She thinks she likes this scene better.
There can't be a mistake at hand
If the poor decision made you
And caused you to freefall
Into green arms handing you yellow lilies for things
I think I'd do it again.