Rough Drafts

Hey everyone...if you're wondering why the poetry all of a sudden it's because my creative writing class focuses on Poetry for the first six weeks before it gets to fiction. Now I know these poems aren't the best... at their best they're nothing more than quick notes I make when I get bored, or my textbook gets me into the mood to write something. Here are a few of my rough drafts. One will be chosen and then tuned a bit more for a grade. Feel free to say which ones are your favorites.

Lectures
My tired eye droops
and flutters awake
my mouth stretches open,
a great yawning gape.
Out thrust my arms
hands heaven bound.
My head feels like mush
and isn't so sound.
I rub my sore eyes
and try to stay wake,
but the teachers a bore,
and I stayed out to late.

She's so unaware

With an orange overcoat, and long flowing hair
she pulls out a book without nary a care.
Her eyes make a glance, furtive and quick
as she pulls out a book old, worn, and thick.
She tosses her head, and settles right in.
She opens the book, and rests her hand on her chin.
Pouring over the lines, that were written with flare.
She chews on her nails, unaware that I stare.

Angry Poem

So you think you're a poet
that's all good and well,
but I'm not someone learned
and I'm not here to sell
you the wonderful meaning
of a tear down the cheek,
or of heavenly angels
down on earth for a week.

I don't care if you're troubled
or angry, or calm.
I don't care if the sun
is your winter day balm.
Whatever the weather,
whether sunny or gray
I simply don't care
if you're mopey or gay.

For I am a poem
consisting of words.
Arranged in an order
and carefully stood.
To help you escape
realities grasp.
To open up dreams
locked tight with a clasp.