Now
It is abandoned.
The vain hope.
Pity. I shall be lonely another year
at least.
Elegance ye do not have,
but some small ingenuities
and a most irregular timing.
That I will give you.
Nothing
else.
My blood is calm.
No gashes here.
“I shall be stout, strange, in yellow stockings
even with the swiftness of putting on.”
Or at least ’till, in my weakness, I fall again.
Agitation of hands. Strength of words. 
oh dont be lonely for a year..come on you goose! i will see you in emm this next summer and cos its not summer anymores then that means its in less than a year..:)..okay okay i’ll be serious now.. emm err yes.. again benji i like this poem very much cos you obvously know who you are and you know your feelings and can express very well and with no hold backs like what you did above..which means yer strong so dont doubt yerself. we both know you are a wonderful person :D..well at least i know you are! hehe.. night night or actually ah morning morning.
Let me guess. Yellow stockings…Malvolio? Less of a guess, I suppose, since I could have missed it had you not mentioned it earlier. Ah, according to my discussion in class today, I am devoid of the passion to learn.
Yeah, sure.
I like how you don’t drag things out. Words can have so much emotion if you just let them alone. Which, of course, I never can, since I’m, uh, still typing.
And by since I could have missed it, I mean though I could have missed it.
I am my own grammar police. And quite the perfectionist at that. I just couldn’t let it go! : /
Sort of.
It’s a mixture of sorts.