Locked In Double Spaced Pages
When we can write a poem,
Why do we do fiction?
Poems are so much easier to write.
Yet one poem made me late for Mr. Parker,
The loss of time gave me an awful fright.
I glanced at my map and saw room 430.
Where it was I just didn’t know,
Because some ditz forgot a legend,
I kept walking around and around,
Until I was able to greet Matthew;
With a cordial hello.
The class skipped poetry and went to fiction,
I had only two days to write my first piece.
But the joke was on them; I self-plagiarized.
Trimmed a few pages and applied the grease.
The very first one to take the bait was Jonathon;
I smiled when he said “Rosenthal” with a bit of glee,
He was a surgeon who did an Appendectomy on me.
Other comments were made of my depictions,
They were clever; I thought well worth the class fee.
Then I came to the realization:
Were the characters locked in double spaced pages?
Or perhaps they were in the circle in front of me.
Gregarious Jennifer and Garrulous Antha
Adroit Aaron and Candor Christopher
Steph up for a stiff punch and Antonio right you are.
Tenable Taylor and Emily, the Queen of Embellishments
I heard it said no writer is pleased with their work,
They only have a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
It’s one of their many quirks.
They bleed ink, black as the new moon light,
See in their writings the uncanny ability of foresight.
Days tumble and break upon December rocks,
Time so precious, waste it wisely
For time spins quicker as you grow old
The weeks like days, the minutes like seconds.
Make the most of the Holiday and New Year
You won’t get it back,
Unless you speak of it kindly in your writings.
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