Poems by Peggy Cole

                                  UNTITLED

Jim, dear sweet Jim,
I need your help.
I'm in hell.
Better yet, I'm in a hole
in which I can't dig myself out of.
First of all, Iím giving up.
Giving up in skool.
I hate my Algebra II teacher.
He sucks.
History is fun but I'm not doing well in it.
My history teacher loves me though.
And I love him as well.
He makes History much easier and so much more interesting.
The problem is me.
I canít get the facts straight.
Chemistry is really hard.
Especially for a late night punk like me.
I study.
I fail.
I donít study.
I fail.
What am I doing wrong?
Everything's falling apart.
Especially me.
I've changed. . . a lot.
But in some of the wrong ways.
But then again in some of the right ways.
And in good ways.
I'm free and I can think for myself.
But I'm a blunt bitch and think of myself as intimidating.
I'm a blunt bitch with so much self confidence.
I'm getting help.
But itís not helping.
Itís just a bunch of crap.
If there's one person who's a big help in my life,
itís you, babe.
I cant tell you how much how much I miss you.
I cant live a day without thinking about you.
My life is falling apart
and each day I lose something or someone important.
Like friends for example.
I hate the teachers; most of them at least.
I hate the kiss-asses too.
They suck.
They remind me of EIGHTH GRADERS.
Stupid people that get on my nerves.
Youíre one of the only ones now.
All my ďfriendsĒ have gone insane.
Sex and drugs.
Thatís all the world has in store today.
And the people who do them.
Boy are they gonna pay.
I know Iím no straight edge myself
with all the subordinancy
but at least Iím sane.
Iím losing all sanity little by little,
day by day.
By going to skool.
Thatís what I think it is.
I lose more by coming home
and being around family.
When Iím in my room
I rock. I jam. I do what I want.
Yes, I play guitar now.
Enjoying it too.
Itís the only thing that helps me stay sane.
My guitar and I.
We get together
and get a kick out of life.
Me and him.
Weíre free and we make a good team.
I strum, he speaks.
He takes me to other worlds when Iím down.
When heís flat,
I tune him up.
We scratch each otherís back.
And when we get to the good life,
To hell, weíre not coming back.
When I learn more about my guitar
and he learns more about me
weíre gonna be stars I tell ya.
That means no more skool
and it means freedom.
When Iím not playing guitar,
my hormones are outta control.
Horniness and anger comes.
Thatís when I get on the net to calm myself down.
And the hormones.
Either that or I sleep.
Sleep takes me away.
Me and my guitar are together in those dreams.
Sometimes.
Me and you are together in those dreams.
Sometimes.
Weíre all in those dreams at one time or another.
Will that dream come true?
You pray and I will play.
And maybe weíll catch something.
Someday.

                          What Itís All About

I hate school.
I hate life.
I hate both Algebra teachers.
They suck.
Nobody likes what I like
and thatís what I want.
Kind of.
But all they do is nag.
Nag. Nag. Nag.
Am I taking it to personally?
Maybe. Maybe not.
who gives?
I love Spanish.
I love Jim Carrey.
I love my music.
They rule.
Theyíre kind to me.
Nobody else likes them
and thatís what I want.
Kind of.
I love my friends
but then again I hate them.
Theyíre true
and then theyíre not.
They rule
and then they donít.
Theyíre funny
and then they annoy me.
ALL AT THE SAME TIME.
I hate the kiss-asses
and I love the teacher haters.
I love Mr. Bacon
with all my heart.
Heís difficult
but heís the best history teacher Iíve ever had.
I donít want him to leave
but he seems like he doesn't want to stay.
I canít do anything about it
so Iíll just try and get over it.
But I canít because I love him so much.
I love soccer
but I hate playing for school teams.
My tutors turn out to be total morons.
Iím the oxy
and theyíre the morons.
Iíve changed
and I like it this way.
Others look at me as a total bitch
but I donít care.
They can go fly a kite.
Who needs them?
Who doesnít?
Kill them all.

                             WHY?

I try my hardest
on my tests, quizzes, and homework
But it never pays off.
I study for tests
But it never pays off.
Iím scared
Because. . .
I think about why this is
but it never. . .
comes to mind.
Why do I even bother?
Nothing pays off.
I think I know things
but Iím always wrong.
When things like this happen
you know your life sucks.
I know for a fact Iím not going to college.
Iíll end up going any ways
because. . .
I dunno.
Who cares?
Will everything turn out well in the finish?
How is it going to end?
About myself, will I have to defend?
Will I ever meet Jim Carrey?
I know Iím obsessed with him
and Iím sorry.
If you knew a sweet guy like him
youíd be obsessed too.
I just wanna know where my loved ones are
when I need them most.