Here's my sad, sad attemt at poetry. Hope it doesn't kill you!

Fan twirling overhead,

The seconds hand of the clock,

Making its minutely rounds.

Both these things spinning

Round and round out of control

Just like my heart.

Why is it that when life begins to calm,

Something always stirs it round?

I hate you, I love you, I miss you, I loathe you.

I want to kiss you, I want to rip your face off.

Filled with two kinds of passion.

If only I could pick just one.

When I go to bed at night,

Your voice floats though my head

As I hug my bear wishing, yearning,

To hug you as tightly as I clutch to the bear.

But upon morning's light, 

Rage floods though me as I

Hate myself for such pathetic weakness 

And throw the bear to the ground with a soft thud.

Why oh why can't the light come on,

And have my decison be made?

Let the light flash green 

To help me move forward.

Instead of it blaring red

Keeping me as a prisoner 

In the same old place.