No longer inspired,
But the teacher required.
“write a nice poem,
Or to your parents I’ll inquire.”
“I’ll write a nice poem.
Maybe that’ll show ‘em.”
I write the first line,
“I’m all a-lonesome.”
On that second line,
I took some more time.
“except for scars on my wrist,
I’ve done no crime.”
Then I look at my wrist,
And my eyes begin to mist.
“do it,” the razor says.
“really, I insist.”
“not again,” my wrist says
As it bleeds out red Pez.
But I’m not made of candy,
"Something’s wrong, I guess.”
“I’m not sweet like candy,
There’s no Danny, no Sandy.
Life’s no movie,
So I keep my razor handy.”
“Never been in a movie,
Never smoked a doobie.
Used to write a poem
Everyday as a newbie.”
Now I’m done with the poem,
It ought to show ‘em.
With bleeding scars on my wrists,
I’m still all a-lonesome.
Author notes
quickie
A contest entry
- the perks of being a wallflower by zillion.
1000 points, ended June 26, 2009, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
what did you think when you read this?
Comments
-
this was catchy definitely liked this write.
doobie. that made me snicker.
-
-
tehe, thanks. =)
-
-
I love the seventh stanza. Made me smile.
Adding your comment:
