P is for Poetry


Poetry Schmoetry I can’t do that.

Thoughts and feelings, and girly-assed crap.

The stuff that’s  inside – it has to stay there;

Else people will judge me, people will stare.

Oh damn my slow typing, when I started this rant

I had a good thought, I  had my own slant.

By the time I can type it it’s gone like a breath

And all that I’m left with is  waiting for death.



Oh my, that took a rather dark turn. Perhaps we won’t do THAT again.

Written as part of the April 2015 A to Z Challenge.


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