I like snow in april

I always love snow... it being in the middle of spring just makes it all the more unique and great. it's so beautiful I can't help loving it. At least until i have to walk around in it. hahah. So i went to prom and honestly, it wasn't very good. last year I felt out of place and slightly uncomfortable, only because i'm too self conscious to really want to dance, but this year I felt out of place because i was just thinking... I don't belong with these people at all anymore. I just don't identify with any of them. I'm so done with all of the people that I go to school. minus a select few. I don't really have senioritis, because my workload is so light, but I am at the point where I cannot handle any more of the immaturity i'm faced with on a daily basis. Anyways, i'm glad and sad that it will be over in a few weeks. I don't handle change well at all but i know i'm ready to be out of high school. For your viewing pleasure (hopefully), here's another sonnet I wrote for my 1000 lines... this one's a bit more melancholy, although it's also about spring (i'm writing a collection of spring sonnets hahah).

nature sends a silent beacon
somehow synchronizing subjects
of her rein, they choose a seeming
random day to bloom, and beaming
sunlight fools them all to expect
steadiness of her, but weaken,
weaken, that they do, when frosted
wind sweeps through the boughs and petals
of the trees and roses that grow
slow and beautiful. but you know
sadness that I have, it settles
over when I think, exhausted
realizing that roses always die
before their beauty from me springs a sigh

I really do love springtime

All the flowers in the house are cheering me up immensely, I think. There's a vase full of yellow roses on the counter, vases with tulip bulbs in bloom all over various parts of the house, and a mini garden of daffodils outside. It's nice. In fact, since I have to have written 1000 lines of poetry by the end of this month, I wrote a sonnet about spring. It's pretty cliche, but I'm proud because it fits all the specific requirements of a sonnet: it's 14 lines, the rhyme scheme is abab/bcbc/cdcd/ee, and each line is 10 syllables and in iambic pentameter. I sound like such a nerd. but i'm proud of it!

the plum and cherry trees are born anew,
their beauty is forgotten until spring
the virgin blooms flinch back from icy dew
that on reluctant winter branches cling.
in winter morning air the bluebirds sing,
they sense the gentle rising of the sun
she shows her quiet face with warmth to bring
against the frigid winter moon she's won.
a ray of light falls where there once was none,
illuminates a bud that's lone and still
and once the spring's unfailing work is done
her hand has formed a thousand daffodils.

eventually she withers, fades and dies,
she can't endure the heat despite her tries.