applegize.

First of all, I had no intention of not writing since February.  In fact, I believe I have written 3 blogs since my last.  Good 'ol bloggy blogspot, though, seems to be ignoring me. Obscene. Watch, all the sudden they are going to show up, and I'll be redundant and look like a dunce. To conical hats! Whatever, here's a poem.

I wish I were a bricklayer,
bricking a perfect wall.
Or a paper-pusher in a visor.
Just not what I am at all.

My sentence structure's boring,
my fashion doesn't match.
I cannot get a suntan
and I cannot throw or catch.

I wish I were a deep sea diver,
restoring sunken boats.
But I cannot even swim in pools.
I cannot even float.

I wish I weren't so whimsical,
or looked into the stars.
Maybe I should be a scientist,
or learn to work with cars.

I cannot seem to self-improve.
I don't really get much better.
I won't ever be a "girl of dreams,"
Some guy will have to settle.

Settle for a dreamer.
An unmatched, tacky dreamer.
With cheap knowledge
and the desire to rhyme "femur" with "dreamer."

You're so, so pretty.
And I'm so, so plain.
And sadly on the inside,
I'm really quite insane.

So instead of writing a love poem,
which I'd really like to do,
I'm apologizing for my lacklusters,
and my mediocrities to you.