Grumpy Poet Syndrome.

Mon, 04/24/2017 - 11:17 -- Neftee

Each poem I write isn't good enough...

So I wright this.

words press against  the inside of my skull,

Something set them off.

I spray these pages with phrases like horse piss.

Then I gain control.

I sit back in my chair... "looks pretty rough."

Why did i wright this?

Was this crap in my soul? What if its so?

I start to laugh.

If my work is simply verbal piss,

this must be my toilet bowl.

This poem is about: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741