Friday, May 26, 2017


from a tiny little hole
a sliver of light
a sign of hopeful paranoia
something to get me through the night
might be a bit sad
to be stuck in this muck
could be a bit mad
to feel like a thousand bucks
writing poems in this format
like shitty three chord rock songs
even if you don't know the rhythm
you'll know how to sing along
and even if the beat screws up
you won't get the lyrics wrong
and we'll pass responsibilities
like a game of pinging pong
everyone in the world is right
Ii'm the only fool that's wrong
maybe I should go apprentice
in the cave of Dr. Dong
now this poem makes no sense
it's become more like a song
wait, I rhymed that earlier
is that allowed or is that wrong?

I should stop
while I'm on top

Ok, look I started writing this last night. First paragraph is from then, next lines are from now. Mood varies, so does the poem.

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