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I'm not that good at poetry,
I'm mediocre, can't you see?
It's one thing to express irony,
and a whole different thing to express it timely.
I never was an artist, true,
I have the soul, that great artists knew,
But some words I just cannot construe,
and expression is definitely not my virtue..
But things could be better, they could be worse
a poem could be stolen out of my purse,
and revised and beautified and cursed,
then all of my hope would be dispersed.
So for now I practice, and I hold on,
It's like a crook doing hair at a salon,
The more hair you do, the less you're a con,
until you disappear completely at dawn.
Analogies are not my thing...
So if you need my, give me a ring.
This bad poetry has me on a string,
I wonder what good this bad poetry can bring..