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Why is it to this day,
That I make a story,
Both large and fray,
And everyone says its boring?

There is no one who reads them,
There is no one who trys them,
There is no one who needs them,
Maybe I should just fry them.

These books have big mouths,
Just waiting to be fed.
I wonder as I am heading south,
What I will think of in bed.

All these crazy dreams,
Of future and nothingness.
Always cares to bring,
A promissing desidence.

And every next day,
I wake up and see,
That my dreams say,
An important message to me.

"Do not fear what they have,
For it is nothing compared to me,
As it is I that shall always bath,
Your expressive knowledge, you see."

-Jacob McBee

Ha, Theres a good start biggrin