NaPoWriMo, Day Sixteen, Poem Sixteen
Rage Mantra
Throw cake in nearest
face, then try to eat.
Hardball their mercy
Thrust list of demands
into nearest open hand.
There's a bomb in chest
released through mouth.
Throw into closest ear,
bury enemies in regret.
Remember, the last one
who isn't tired is you.
No comments:
Post a Comment