Iambic Pentameter

I am seriously in a bone-chilling, mind-numbing funk

My first inclination is a syringe filled with junk

I did that a few days ago and got very much punk’d

because drugs are all fake now, the real ones defunct.

I wish I could write this in non-rhyming prose

Unfortunate for me, I have too many foes

who would take the shit I write and dance upon their toes

thinking they got  me writing the truth, I suppose.

little do they know, even my rhymes are predisposed

to the  TRUTH…..no matter the flow..

but idiots, in general, just don’t understand

IAMBIC PENTAMETER….it’s a foreign land

So, my soul is disguised in poems which do  suck

written only to feed the weekly garbage truck

I completely understand and I don’t give a fuck.

So cute I would look on the back of the truck…

of garbage.

If you haven’t guessed yet, the author is drunk.

thank god.


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