A Hillsborough Community College Student Publication since 1978.
You ask me why my face is skewed?
You look at me with eyes that are rude.
My life’s goal is to get the crown,
but lately it’s cascading down.
But you’re right to be on my case.
Please excuse the scowl on my face.
My body is talking about ending life.
It talks about how it’s sick of strife.
I tell it not to do it, to stop its cries,
but it begins to say its goodbyes.
But go on, you’re on the right pace.
Sorry for the scowl on my face.
I fell in love with my best friend,
but it didn’t come to fruition; it came to an end.
Instead, she wants some guitarist, a string bean linguini.
Leaving me to kill my sorrows.
It’s not right for this place.
Please forgive the scowl on my face.
I’m sorry that I spew nothing but bile.
I’m sorry I don’t put on a fake smile.
But I can’t be cheerful, it won’t let me be.
There’s too much darkness for me.
The world is just spraying me with mace.
There are no excuses for the scowl on my face.