Writing a poem is hard. I’m telling you straight up, no lie.
There’s a lot to worry about, like words, length and rhyme.
I can tell you right now if this wasn’t an assignment there would be no chance
Of me doing this, just like you’d never catch me doing a dance
To any song ever. I’ve had to think a lot about what to write
Mostly ‘cause I’m not allowed to use any obscene language, right?
It was hard. Most of my other poems involved bashing the other kids in IB
And if you ask me they deserve it for being way too cocky.
Bragging about that perfect score on the ACT and the SAT
Acting as if you know the answer to every question you see.
I thought about writing a poem for a girl, the one with so much sass
That it’s almost intolerable except ****, that ***.
But I lied, there’s no girl, I just wanted to say ***.
Oh please, grow up, you guys are practically high school dropouts: no class
In reality, I wasted an entire poem on not even having a specific topic
And I don’t see a problem with that, even if you might. You can just **** it.
Up. **** it up.

We wax eloquent
in forgotten
languages
describing marvels
to the dead.

Even when
they remember
the languages,
the dead are not
impressed.

~mce

The grace of losing
self-importance
is the simple question
"who cares."

The meek will not inherit ****,
that's a common misconception.
The miracles of Jesus Christ
were all subtle deceptions.
****, if you believe in fantasy
as thick as the resurrection,
you'd probably claim the earth was flat
if that's what society expected.
Your preacher was a mega-phone
for a money hungry despot.
Centuries have come and gone
when will you people get the message?
If he's real friends, God is dead,
or he built the planet and ******* left it.