Some Poetry

So I had this thought that I'm running out of things to think about putting in this blog. and then I remembered that I used to write some poetry back in high school, so, here you go. since you're all so greedy to hear all my rantings at once, i'm just going to let them out one at a time. Mwuahaha, period.

My Name Is Hank   -Hank Tramel

       My name is Hank Alan Tramel.  Hank means, "Ruler of the home." Alan means, "The Handsome one." Tramel means, . . . Well it must mean someone fucked up because something went wrong with the first two. 

       Hank. H-A-N-K. Kind of a choppy name, doesn't really roll off the tongue. It really makes me wonder why I got that name as a child. Did I look like a Hank when I was only 5 and a half pounds, covered in blood and crying like the newborn baby I was? Or did my mother know that I was going to be this 5'6" 180lbs heart-broken loner kid that I am now? Guess I'll never know, considering every time I ask her she says be happy you weren't named bob, which I guess I am. 

       A friend of mine once said she believes people grow into their names. If that’s true, I'm never naming my kids after them. They'll all be whores. I guess I'm happy with my name. Not like I'll get the chance to be someone else anyway, but I don't mind. It's been fun with Hank, so I think I'll keep it that way.