Life Sucks (When You Write Bad Poetry)

Life Sucks (When You Write Bad Poetry)                         October 24, 2005

The masses look to me for inspiration,

Something to spark 'em, to excite 'em,

But the abundance of ideas has run dry,

So there's no more shit for me to mesmerize you with.

Get a life, people, or be freshly fucked.

My muse of mind must have died on me.

I just can't spin no raps or no rhymes.

My brain was once an endless sea,

But now, I've hit hard times. Oh damn!

Life sucks when you write bad poetry.

Spinning lyrical etudes is what I do for a living.

I guess that's all for wrought now.

What once was an overflowing dam of ideas

Now is a parched desert with prickly cacti, sagebrush and such.

Time will pour on in the hour glass, but slow.

So that's it then. D.C. al fine,

Or whatever shit it is you guys say for "finished."

I'm through trying. I'm done explaining.

There's no more reason for me to sit here and complain.

Just know that life sucks when you write bad poetry.