This Pen Is A Piece Of Shit

How am I supposed to write under conditions like these?
Barreling motorcar roar through my alley, please.
Wake me, shake me from my world nocturne
Turn me, burn me; dump me in my urn.
Scatter me onto the earth of a continent never traveled,
Where barefoot folk can carry me and grind me into the gravel.
There will be no more roaring motorcars, no more pens and barrels.
No more off-key motherfuckers singing Christmas carols...
I have seen my world of life and strife, rapture, indifference and peril.
Your world will thank me when I am gone, and pray that I was sterile.

by Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler

Comments (3)

I have noticed that you rhyme better when you are pissed off ... food for thought next time you're thinking of punching your fist into a wall
Nice rhymes and sarcasm. I see PH gives this keywords of: christmas, world, thanks, travel which made me laugh. Thankfully, not THAT kind of poem. -chuck
ahhhhh, one of THOSE days: -)