Sans Serif

Rookie (March 24,1991 / where ever the stars still spell my name)

Biography of Sans Serif

READ THIS FIRST! ! ! I have spent a long time on these and to have someone up and take them and put their name to it is horrible. Please do not plagerize. I'm a true conissuer of poems. I love to read and write it. Drop me a message and let me read yours. I grew up remembering nothing of my childhood before age 5 and wondering about my true parents. I've spent countless years trying to find myself only to find myself right here in poetry. I was the only gay in my group of friends but still they deal with me. My home has rejected me except my sis. Guess If you can't depend on your 'parents' you can always depend on true family.
I am currently in college for drafting and design but hope to one day major in literature. I am a fair musician on the trumpet and piano(two rather underappreciated instruments if you ask me) and a decent artist. I never realized my potential for poetry until a good friend introduced it to me. Ever since I have found poetry to be the words of a soul. I have found that if I am bored enough I can also write good songs but not very long.
I love rock music but my heart will always be for techno/electronica. A few of my favorite bands are: A.F.I, Aiden, Black Sabbath, Cascada, Evanescence, Flyleaf, Rise Against, Alesana, Boys Like Girls, Guns N' Roses, Die Toten Hosen,1997, Streetlight Manifesto, Tokio Hotel, Nightwish, Billy Idol, Kansas, Marilyn Manson, and Muse.
I find that some people have their own sense of poetic justice and to those who's views are narrowed, read and write more. You will find all the answers in poetry.
I am a really nice person but at times I can be a real mean person. I once suffered from bipolarity and a split personality. This 'other side' I ended up calling Sanson. My parents couldn't stand me jumping from one person to another and ended up just acting like it never was.
In a fit of hate of myself, I slammed my head against a wall until I passed out. When I awoke I didn't hear from him. I use everything that he stood for as a sense for some of my poetry.

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The Voice

It was Thursday night and the lights were low.
I was home alone on my own, solo.
I heard a voice call out to me.
It spoke so clearly it scared me.
I said 'Forget the world it did you wrong.'
I must admit, I dealt its throngs.
I asked it if it could tell me how.
It said 'No. Not right now'

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