This may be an insult.. but yes.. this is poetry.
Im not writing cause i love it. Im writing. Pleasurable.
I now know what kind of writer I am.
I dont really care, I just write.
Judge me.
In my brighter days, there will be verse. Normal. Well chosen words.
Or maybe not. Maybe i write only when im feeling bitter.
And I get peasure out of writing absurd.
Face it. This hoard of words is a poem.
You wont see the end coming. I dont either.
Now, you're alert. You're loking for it.
You're expecting the end, the final line, to conclude this mess..
Chop
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