legovanan

Before I start laughing:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY CONNIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FELIZ CUMPLEANOS!!!! VALIN NOSTA!
BON ANNIVERSAIRE!!!!!! S dnem rozhdeniya!!!!

Anyway:
HAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHHAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
BAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PUAHAHAHAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MUAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*falls out of chair*
*clutches stomach*
*shaking compulsively from laughter*
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111

WHAT KIND IF A TEAM, A "CHAMPIONS LEAGUE" TEAM LOSES 7-0?!?!?!?!!?! AHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT ABOUT THE "BEST TEAM IN LIVERPOOL" DAVID MOYES??? PUAHAHAAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!
EVERTON SUCKS!!!!!! THEY LOST 7-0 TO ARSENAL!!!!!!! YES SEVEN MATTHEW! DON'T DENY IT! PUAHAAHAHAHHA!!!!!!!! THEY SCORED FOUR GOALS IN SIX MINUTES!!!!! PUAHAHAHAAHAHHA!!!!! Did you guys just kick the ball, get tackled, and then let them score? PAHAHAHAHAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway... DIED in English today. We had to write a villanelle. It's a poem that has fixed form: five three-lined stanzas, ends with a quartrain (four lines). There's only two rhymes, and you have to repeat these two lines OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

Alright, you saw the words "RHYME", "REPEAT", and above all--"FIXED". ELAINE DOES NOT UNDERSTAND ANY OF THOSE THREE WORDS!!! I slaved over it all through english, and couldn't get it to work. Wrote four drafts. Did it for most of lunch and Spanish. People couldn't understand why when it wasn't due, I couldn't stop. It's because poetry is NOT an assignment to me. Poetry is the highest artform possible. Poetry is sacred. Poetry is the holiest thing there is. I do NOT abandon poetry. I do NOT write poetry because some teacher tells me to.
So finally, after my seventh draft, I'm beginning to like it. I like it as much as I can for a RHYMING, FIXED POEM NOT of my choice.

Read and review! on the chatter please.
The more comments, the happier Elaine is.

It All Means Nothing

Sweet nightingale, you still sing on
The moonlit breeze blows on by
It all means nothing, for he is gone.

It bears no meaning, the coming dawn
I cannot grow wings; I cannot fly.
Sweet nightingale, you still sing on.

No gold, no silver can I pawn
No song can I sing; no tears can I cry.
It all means nothing, for he is gone.

A place beside him cannot be won.
I have no place within the sky.
Sweet nightingale, you still sing on.

There is no strength that can be drawn.
Within his arms I cannot lie
It all means nothing, for he is gone.

It bears no meaning, the coming dawn.
I cannot grow wings; I cannot fly.
Sweet nightingale, you still sing on.
It all means nothing, for he is gone.

See you know it's not my usual self, because I would say "no tears can I SHED" instead of "Cry", and stuff like that. I never repeat like that. I'm proud of myself though; I rhymed!