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stupidfool
molly and i were sitting in history class, before the presentation, and i looked over at her paper. she was composing a poem called 'ode to death.' thus inspired, i wrote a poem of my own (keeping in mind that molly could look over and read it at any time):

ode to messing up loser's head

sometimes you think you know stuff
and you're sure that you're not wrong.
you live your life accordingly
'til someone comes along.

they ask a question-"you ok?"
and your whole world falls apart.
'cause what you thought you knew was wrong.
now you don't know where to start.

so you take a break at your home.
and when finally you come back,
you start to figure stuff out again.
this time, you're on the right track.

you gather evidence and clues
and the pieces begin to fit.
they make a very large picture
with only a few holes in it.

but still you want to verify
and also fill in the holes,
so you formulate a question
to ask someone who knows.

you jump upon the chance
when that someone comes along.
the reaction's surprise, confustion,
and you know that you were wrong.

it's too late to take it back now.
the question's already out.
but if it gets to certain people,
they'll wonder what you're about.

it's obvious with a glance at your face
that you're worried, afraid of the future.
the response comes with sincerity:
"don't worry about it, loser."

and with that work of art, i'm off to work. terrie and jim tonight...

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