Poem detailing frustration with the commonly imposed bounderies of society. |
The Pen drips leaky sentiments from the womb of words Upon the barren surface of the page Milky videos tell the strories Of the well worn belts That barely surround the perimeters Of their fat, complacent mallets Treble clefs warble on the unsteady footing Of the artist's grid They have an art for mayhem And contempt for rules and order The frosted windows with chaotic cakes So appealing to the unkempt soul Jealous looks from the teacher To the youth and the fear Nonsense words and rubbish That's all it is Nonsense words and rubbish that the Pen would write Serenade devious poets Who will strive to scrub the burn From the pasty keys leave the surge undone Levae the plug with Pen Let the words collide Clash and thrust their flaws Never to unfold Let the meaning work Take coincidence undone Make of it what you will Advantage must be had The lingering flab of fat What's left is cold as gripe And irises swaying to the beat Of the silent hell The ignored poet's folly Who grasps the Pen again Trying to pass awards in hand And fill the cup all the way They write for what seems The epitome of The despot CEO's wrapped up With a rope of verbs |