Math
I simply despise being bored,
Why was this created, Lord?
Why must one sit and think,
Their mind is going off the brink?
Why must a language, dead,
Be involved in something that hurts the head?
YOU ARE READING
The Moon, Sun and Ice Cream
PoetrySo this is just a group of poems I put together. Some are really old, some I will write the day I post them. You're welcome to criticize my work, and give it to me straight. You're also just welcome to read. So, without further ado......
