The Poem I wrote for Alex

Way back in the day, I told my buddy alex that I wrote a poem for him. This was a lie. I had been drinking and writing an evaluation from home–on a saturday night–and hearing from Alex made me giddy. When he asked to hear it, I stalled and wrote this in the span of five minutes. Considering out general dislike of Goth Kids, I think he really appreciated it.

My life is barren
and bleak
come enter my dungeon of despair
Oh why will no one enter my dungeon?
Is it not Dank?
Is it not Deep?
IS my makeup not perfect?
Is not my attitude snobbish,
yet persecuted?
Woe is me
Woe is me

Pass me a clove

Currently, I’ve been writing Haikus. I’m not sure I’m going to share those.

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10 thoughts on “The Poem I wrote for Alex

  1. YES!!! Man, I love this poem. And goths. And the goth’s pussy inbred half-brother, emo.

    Thank you, Marty. You’ve given me volcanic levels of bile and digust to warm my itty-bitty black heart.

  2. Shannon is right: There are no bad haikus Only bad pentasyllabic word.

    At a recent Red Sox game, a member of the bleachers took it upon himself to recite a new haiku during each inning break. He did a great job, relating it to the events of the previous inning or the hopes of the forthcoming inning. The crowd awaited each new haiku with rapt attention.

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