Did you compose any cringeworthy poems/songs/stories in your youth?

ibarelycare wrote: »

I wrote my mam a poem for her 50th and I read it out at her surprise birthday party. I was pretty pissed though and got a bit emotional. I cringe when I think about it now, I was about 17. My mam got the poem typed up nicely and has it framed in our hall :o

I can't remember it all but the first verse was:

"50 years you have been around
But we've only known you a few seasons
Our love for you will never die
A love that holds many reasons"



OH GODDDDDDDDDD! I'm cringing so hard I nearly pooped myself

Jaysus even I read that thru my finger covered face!!!
Still your Ma liked it so every cloud.....

At 14 I wrote a short story for our honours English class. I did one based on a solider preparing in a trench during world war 1, the night before the mornings advance.

The English teacher past it to the school who got it published as part of a collection of short stories, its framed in the school, was in the papers, read on the radio and commented on by a few irish authors.

All my classmates called me a gaybo and anytime I had to read it in front of the school I cringed to death.....

Wrote a song in 3rd year in Secondary School. Was a song writing class, part of our Music class. The challenge was to write a full song and compose the music to it. So i did. It was called "Deep Within My Heart", and here's all i can remember from it:

[Verse]
What is happening, deep within my heart
I can't take it, when we are apart
I have tried, from the very start
But it doesn't matter now that we're apart

[Chorus]
Why? Why did you say no?
I only wanted us to be happy...

There was 2 more lines to the chorus, but i can't remember them, and i have 4 other verses, and it stuck strictly to the A-A-B-A-B-A-B-B scheme (i think).

Was also twisted one night last year, and wrote a very inappropriate (albeit with the intention of funny, which was the way it was taken thank God) comment one a female colleagues Facebook about the rain hopping off the window, in which i referred to the rain as me slapping my cock off the window. It was called poetic by someone, so i said i would write a sonnet. And i did, the following night while very hungover:

Last night as i was drinking,
I promised to write a poem.
Today that got me thinking,
I shouldn't drink at home.

So a sonnet i'm now writing,
In a sober state.
Eyes burning from the lighting,
And it's really, really late.

So it's off to bed i'm going,
And there is no rain tonight.
You can sleep soundly knowing
My cock won't give you a fright.

This is the end of the sonnet,
My bed is calling, i'm on it!