Thursday, July 15, 2010

Because bad poetry is my calling

I'm sitting in this stuffy office,
a thick layer of sweat separates my clothes from my skin.
My eyelids are heavy with the sleep that I never got
while tunes of silent desperation
drone on in the background,
closing the gap between an ardently woeful past
and the immediately bleak future
where I'll have to step outside
into this pouring rain
only to be drenched by our "friend" Mother Nature.
This whole scenario just sounded like a horribly written poem to me.
So I decided to write it down.

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