Bad Poetry


My mother said my writing was good.

I told her she misunderstood.

She said even my father loved my words.

I promised to write one with discord.

Since his impression of poetry must contain rhymes,

I promised to make the words only intertwine.

I sat down to write,

But the page remained white.

I know not how to define what is good and what is bad;

I know only to write with what I have.

Sorry this post is late, I had a busy day yesterday! I think I have my groove back (as long as I didn’t jinx myself by typing that), and hope to not miss any more posts!


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