YARA IS NOT POETIC

I was digging into my older stuff yesterday when I accidentally found (to my horror and disgust!) a LOVE poem I made during my second year of high school – probably the peak of my cheesy teenhood years. It was horribly disgusting, and I can't begin to comprehend how I got to finish that one out. And if memory serves me right, it was even dedicated to a classmate of mine. Oh no. I even had thoughts of submitting and having it published to La Recogida, a literary compilation of sorts in our school. Thank the heavens above for giving me a sensible mind, and I decided not to share my shame with other people.

And no, it won't go to my memory box.

I can find other uses for such crap.

******

Later that day, my shoot-into-the-trashcan skills has gotten better.