O! My wailing heart! My quaking soul!
My wailing, quaking heart-soul!
Now the void of empty voidness opens before me
and is empty
like
my
soul.
O blackness! O darkness! O despair!
The sorrow of fifty billion apocalypses
rises like an army of seventy trillion skeletons,
each carrying a dying child
and weeping.
My soul screams – why?
Why? Why? Why? Why?
It howls despairingly like the despairing ghost of a despairing banshee.
Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?
Why did I forget
to charge my phone?
to charge my phone?
From the excellent website (click): How to write badly well
1 comment:
This is too funny! It reminds me of when I was just a wee kid (about 12 years old) and I wrote a gut wrenching poem about my beloved popcicle!
Absolutely funny!
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