A Babbling Fool

A poem.... handcrafted by my weird-a*s brain.

My brain, a cramped nest, a flood of peculiar thought, a dangerous mass of supercharged soldiers fighting for good when the only thing that seems to exist is bad.  Thoughts stroll by like a cocky snake waiting for you to twitch.  Twitching is easily avoided when you smile and nod with the crowd.  Confident, proud, accomplished, built, loved, praised I stand; anxious, semi-empty, awkward, confused, problematic, I sit.  No matter my posture, I vary and morph into my surroundings.  You can call me a chameleon.

Author's Note

This is from the brain of an 18-year-old girl that is mortified of attending college soon and is hormonal, don't expect it not to be weird. :P

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[Jukebox Junkie]

You’re back.
I hope to learn from your musings...I hope I learn from mine