Poetry

here I sit : a poem

here i sit

my nails all bit

candle on the table lit

i ask myself “should i do it?”

there’s nothing to admit

here i sit

will everything still fit?

think nothing of it

this is no time to throw a fit

i’ll just use my witt

here i sit

just for the hell of it

no, i must not submit

don’t pinch or hit

oh fuck it

just make the f’in banana split

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