This poem was written at a time when I didn't feel like writing, which you can probably tell once you read it. I hope this strange, poetic rant makes you laugh out loud.
I’ve come to a place,
Where I have no idea what to write,
Except to write about writing itself,
Firstly, I would like to say,
It’s really quite sad,
That I’m being forced to write this much,
But anyway, whatever,
I will not be subject to screaming,
Writing,
It’s usually quite nice,
When you know,
What you’re writing about,
And it’s even nicer,
When it turns out well,
However, it is not nice,
To be forced to write,
To have all the topics,
Squeezed out of you,
And to be told
That it wasn’t that nice,
Let’s face it,
You wanted me to write,
And I did,
Okay so I realized,
This piece isn’t really about writing,
It’s just me being mad,
So let’s just say, This poem is about my feelings,
When it comes to writing,
And I think I’ve outlined them,
Perfectly.
Also, I will be leaving to go to my boarding school and will only be returning after another four months. Till then, bye!
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