POETRY

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Unexcused Absence

I haven't written much poetry lately
(poetry requiring feeling and all).
I spend my days on the edge of my life
Figuring out the best way to fall.

The words are there—the hateful things—
But I find I just don't give a damn,
So I whore my creativity out
Just like the prositute I am.

A thousand yard stare in a ten foot cell:
Well, ain't that just a vision of Hell...