Bad Poetry

Sometimes, some days, I fall victim

to writing Bad poetry. I know when’s

it bad when it’s ugly and sad.

When the over-ripe melon

is rotten to its core.

It’s really annoying, frustrating, and unforgiving

to be writing real bad craft

poems made of sorrow, breaking like glass.

poems that fall like drool from

my chapped, sun sore lips

words that escape

like a plague of misfits.

It’s quite clear, I am sitting down

deep again in my own private pity

party, the drama clutches me

I fear it will never end

as I catch myself writing

way too much, so very much, really

just too too much,

Bad Poetry again…

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