Poems from PoorPoet
Two years ago, poetry
was a writer pleasuring themselves over a page
a perverse smile on their faces
as they worked the pen, worked the pen...
This monitor is hurting my eyes.
and even though it's a bully to my retinas,
and college admission is a drag
leaving me haggard and mean,
a...
A dream-filled night's worth of
tangled bedsheets, then a frantic drowsy start.
What day is it? Where am I? The beach
is too far away for...