These are the rejects, the rebels, and the misfits of the poems that I have written. These are the works of six-year-old me, sleep-deprived me, and overly-adventurous me. They are not my best work, (for that you may look to my other collection, "Paperscape") but they have their merits and they have something to say about the odd overlooked corners of the world and my own brain.