If you're looking for
a pick-me-up,
don't go on. Stop reading and
do something else.
Some laundry or
dishes, because
nothing past this point is worth reading.
Just disregard this, along
with your garbage.

To me,
it seems tragedy is the
easiest way to create
a masterpiece.

Mom dies of cancer,
lost your wife to
an angry teen with
a gun...
Write about it.
Watch it fly off shelves.

"one mans trash is
another mans treasure."

To me,
it seems unfair.
Call me selfish, but
nothing crappy ever
happens to me. I've
never been the victim of
a shopping mall shoot out. I've
never lost anyone
close to
a deadly disease.

If years and years
of school has taught me
one thing, it's that
school will teach you
nothing.

I could riddle this
poem with literary devices, but
people wouldn't think
any more of it
or me.
I could throw in
ten syllable words to
make it impressive
but would it
impress?

I'll toss in hundreds of cliches
of my heart and my head, and how I'm torn between...
or I'll rack my brain for days and days
to fit stupid words into a rhyming scheme.

a, b, a, b,
c, d, c, d,
and on and on and
on and on and on
and on...

I'll keep writing until
my damn shopping mall shoot out
finally happens, or
until I realize that the
absence of my tragedy
is the tragedy
itself.
My deadly disease:
I'll never be taken seriously.

I'll write and write,
stanza after stanza,
chapter after chapter.
I'll get nowhere.
Tragedy.
The difference between
a world renowned poet, and
a stupid Emo boy from
the boon docks.

To me,
the only thing more
powerful than weapons
are words.

"sticks and stones
may break
my bones,
but words could change the world."

Unfortunately for me,
no one is
listening.

If you've made it
this far without
dying of boredom,
you're a trooper.

Now, go forget me.
Forget this ever
happened. Don't
tell your friends, and
don't reminisce.
Go ahead and disregard this, along
with your
garbage.