oni flygon
:)
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- Bittertown
- Seen Sep 3, 2009
I was procrastinating from my French essay as well as being irritated lately... so instead of writing the third part to the series of poems I've written lately, I decided to side track a bit and write a rant-like poem. Well... you get the idea. The fourth stanza is a music reference. This is more of a standard form of a poem. Obvious stanzas and rhyme schemes with a little bit of wordplay and some alliteration and parallelism. Enough jargon. Hope you enjoy!
Shallow?
Say, mister, I heard of someone talking about death
And the infinite praises without any depth.
Critics brandish their sword-sharpened tongues,
Hurling their shallow thoughts of dung.
Tell me, my friend, how long shall we write about
Death or the same love you can't live without?
Too much blood and cuts sickens my soul,
You might as well blacken your face with coal.
Hey, friend, are you writing the same rhymes
Over and over, trying to be obviously sublime
With repetitive lines, and bland emotions,
Followed by fans with blind devotion.
Why, this poem is almost like that one song
About that guy who wants to sing along.
Although I don't care about the scent of teens
When no one knows what it means…
Shallow?
Say, mister, I heard of someone talking about death
And the infinite praises without any depth.
Critics brandish their sword-sharpened tongues,
Hurling their shallow thoughts of dung.
Tell me, my friend, how long shall we write about
Death or the same love you can't live without?
Too much blood and cuts sickens my soul,
You might as well blacken your face with coal.
Hey, friend, are you writing the same rhymes
Over and over, trying to be obviously sublime
With repetitive lines, and bland emotions,
Followed by fans with blind devotion.
Why, this poem is almost like that one song
About that guy who wants to sing along.
Although I don't care about the scent of teens
When no one knows what it means…