Smile like you mean it.

Another poem.

"Suit"

You've dressed up in your new suit.
Unwillingly, bitterly.
It frightens you, the thought of it all.
Do this, your parents told you.
Trust us, you won't regret it.
Trust? Trust is what you gave up long ago.
Trust is but a faint thought to your soul.
Your poor, tired, cynical soul.

You look down at your shoes.
Not because they're new or because they're shiny.
But because they're the only thing in this world you feel.
The laces have tightened up, and your feet are losing circulation.
But you like it.
Without these shoes, you might as well be dead.
You can't feel.

Your appearance in the mirror is spotless.
Your relatives commend your looks.
No one looks you in the eye.
No one bothers.

For if they did, they'd catch that scream.
That smile can hide it, the eyes can not.
You plead with them.
Wishing, praying, hoping someone takes the time.
Sees your eyes.
Sees you needing out.
Calling for help.

But no one bothers.
All they see is your suit.
Your shoes.
Your combed hair.

And you take the cup of punch.
Entertaining the thought of dumping it.
Splattering your new clothes with it.

You could never do it.
You've been brainwashed, just like them.
You drink it and wipe your lip with a napkin.
And you go on your way.
Greeting people, complimenting their appearances.

Looking no one in the eye.

She doesn't get it, it's all before she was born.

A poem.

"It Bothers Me Not"

Cross your fingers, I'll cross my heart.
Luck is needed, before we start.
A pounding, pounding in my brain.
The time pours down, down like rain.

Love was a word, not an emotion.
Sex was my god, her my devotion.
The darkness ruined me, for sure.
I hate the time, for what I endured.

I was scarred for months and months.
I was torn for what I'd done.
I used that word for it was what I wanted.
That dark corner, forever haunted.

Young and lust bring more secrets than I thought.
The moments of "happiness", I'd rather rot.
I was torn for what I'd done.
The prize was sought, but never won.

As a person I've changed.
As a person I've grown.
My sorrow never felt
by any heart but my own.

Replaced those words of young and lust
With those of Lord and trust
Surrounded by, true friends of mine.
I'm doing fine, I'm doing fine.

Time heals all, it surely does.
I've new things to give me my buzz.
Every few months, my mind wanders back.
Every few months, I'm filled with regret.

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.

Well, okay. While the Semisonic title is true, it really means nothing to this. I'm not ending my blogging elsewhere. This is just a different outlet for me to use, and to blog different stuff than my usual blogs.

This blog will be a lot of my poems, songs, stories, scripts. Also, a lot of film and song analysis/reviewing/advice. Yes, believe it or not, some people need advice in what song to listen to.

To explain the name of the blogspot, "she gave me a pen", it's a line from the film Say Anything...(1989). It's an incredible movie, and the full line is "I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen." How many times have you given a LOT, and only received the equivalent of a pen back?

And, of course, "And that's all I have to say about that", is from Forrest Gump(1994).

Now, the introductory blog is finished. From now on, my blogs can start being deeper than just "Hi, I'm justin. This is my blog."