《Book of TLC (Poem Book)》Title at the end (Written nothing)

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(I did this years ago before I started to really get into writing novels. Forgive the mistakes)

Walking closer, you see people doing things and you wonder whether you can do your own.

Continuing, you think that you'll try and if things don't work out there's just one button you need to press or one thing you need to say. Sitting down, whether you have food or not, and starring from black to white, people understand and ask what it is, you tell them and watch their reactions.

Turning around, back to what they were doing or watching, it doesn't matter, as long as things still work out for you.

Silence fills the room, or quiet, doesn't know, but you feel a difference, a difference in which they respect you.

All good, tranced and all, until someone walks in talking, yapping away, telling about their day.

You say what you need to say, either a 'sorry' is said or that, 'fine, I'm going', either way you SHOULD get silence. But there's little yaps everywhere now!

Angered, you get up, turn the movie off and rewind it, put it away, angry once again that home is too loud for movies...

Called: Home Movies. (I did this in exam time in school...)

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