i'm writing... (prat)

[misterpoet]

i sit.
though i'm not tired,
i have nothing better to do.

i get a pen,
and my journal.
i'm going to write a poem.
it'll be good.

i clear my thoughts.
i don't want today to intrude.
and i think of things...

intriguing and controversy,
but that doesn't seem to fit
into tomorrow's society.

so i ponder some more
and realize...
i really don't give a fuck.

and i start writing.

[...]

i write some notes
to introduce into my poem...
a scrap piece of idea's
to form and to fold.

and then i think.
and curl it up, and as i'm
about to throw it away

i think...

let people misunderstand
there full of brains, they see in vain,
let them be smart and accurate
and bring forth the "truth"
for all society.

and I pause.
and quickly fill my page up
with my poem.