Haha Omg! Thanks so much for the responses :) You're all so kind, lol.
So I was reading today out of Stephen Hawking's, The Grand Design, and I'm only on chapter 3 but it started like this:
"A few years ago the city of Monza, Italy, barred pet owners from keeping goldfrish in curved goldfrish bowls. The measure's sponsor explained the measure in part by saying that it is cruel to keep a frish in a bowl with curved sides because, gazing out, the frish would have a distorted view of reality. But how do we know we have the true, undistorted picture or reality? Might not we ourselves also be inside some big goldfrish bowl and have our vision distorted by an enormous lens? The goldfrish's picture of reality is different from ours, but can we be sure it's less real?"
And it got me thinking... but I want to hear what you think. Because everybody's views are different, and that's sort of the whole point. Are we personal realities? Or are we subject to Objective Reality. Could they CoExist? Anywho. That's what I love about Stephen Hawking, because I open his book and only get one paragraph in :]
So I was thinking about that instead of writing a poem~ But here's one I wrote a long time ago, for my dad <3<3<3
A Ring, a ring, the song that she sings, but the tune turns into demands,
Not That, not that, can't run from the fact, that it's time to become a man.
Some More, some more, it's becoming a chore, and now she wants no protection,
A Baby, a baby, or Lord can you save me? My choices could use some correction.
A House, a house, for me and my spouse, and also our brand new daughter,
I Like, I like, a family's alright, and I'm making a decent father.
Another, another, she finds a new lover, and leaves me for a prettier man,
My Cash, my cash, judge says she gets half. Was this all just her master plan?
She's Gone, she's gone, took my ring to the pawn, forget all the times that we had,
My Child, my child, haven't seen in awhile, and she's calling another man dad.