My Dearest Friends
This task I fear
I cannot do. . .
(Write of methods, of ways
that I am worthy of praise)
For I am imminently blue.

I cannot tell you of any
Excellent things
About my visage, person, or dreams.

There is nothing about me to adore.
(The shrieks within my head do roar
as my dark steps do tread the moor.)

There is nothing lovely about my hair
(Except the free-tails nesting there)
And yet the length of my
gossamer veil
Dost skim the portal of our souls
And begs the Question of Olde:
Can one ever be
Too moody and trite
When in the throes
Of Gothic life?


My Dearest Friends
This task I fear
I cannot do. . .
For I am imminently blue.



NO, this is not a serious poem (!) :D

It was inspired by Lydia Deetz, the character played by Winona Ryder in the movie Beetlejuice. (She was a funny mock-up goth teenager. I should be clear that I am not making fun of goths---I have called myself that in the past! I'm poking fun at myself in writing this).

I thought I'd post this in light of recent comments people have been making about angst-ridden poetry and angst-ridden teenagers. ;)

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