Devil’s Snare

Well, words don’t come naturally to me,
And poetry certainly doesn’t.
Is poetry all about those high class words
That makes no sense,
Or is it all about the rhymes
That sound nonsense?
Well, even I want to write poetry,
Put my thoughts, my emotions, my trauma,
Into words, but then the publishers don’t
Publish it for lack of poetic sense,
Then what the hell do I do with those feelings?
Trash them into the bin, huh?
Get a life, you dumbo,
Poetry’s not about lifting words from a dictionary,
Or from someone else’s work,
It’s about you,
It’s about your life
And not like
“Thou that countless of pulchritude
Thou this… maugre… taciturnitude…”
All my barking and my trauma,
You never pay attention to.
You ass,
You write about life and you’ve never lived it,
You talk about love, and you’ve never felt it,
You talk about joy, sorrow, hurt and pain,
And never ever fuckin known it.
This poem won’t get published too,
“For lack of poetic sense”, they’ll say
“And for the use of bad words…”
But all I’ll say is,
You ass, get a life!

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