First day of the quarter and my poetry class was asked to write a bad poem for an in class bad poetry competition. This was my contribution, it was deemed too funny to be completely horrible. I read it very dramatically.
Untitled
My soul weeps
ice like fire
ashes blackened like my soul
my razors only
silence my pain
bloody regrets
We were then asked to take these two lines (the truth is, the bad poem) and write something crazy.
Bad Poem
The truth is
the bad poem
tastes like a week-old cake
stale, hard icing
sugar without flavor
dry without wit
and filled with
a sense of
fattening
without sustenance
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