Insanitybytes inadvertently challenged me to write a poem of pure vitriol.
Naturally, I couldn’t pass it up.
I Hate The Sky!
I hate the sky!
I hate the trees!
I hate the world because I see
The world it sure enough hates me!
And so I smolder, burn and scream
At the ones who dare to dream
Catch them in their gnarly schemes
And dunk them in a toxic stream
Then I’ll light the world on fire
And fiddle on my lovely pyre
And as my music screeches on
I’ll laugh at all the little pawns
Who think that day comes after dawn
But soon will wake up to be wrong
How pitiful the weak turned strong
Who soon will blaze as burning straw
And no more find a steak cooked raw
And should you find my motives wrong
I promise you that all along
It’s nothing that a little prong
Won’t prove your doubting mind all wrong
I’m a nice guy
Prove me wrong
Photo by Lisa Fotios on Pexels.com
I think you succeeded with vitriol. (And also managed to rhyme).
Thank you!
My bam is genuinely boozled, my gast is flabbered, and my, oh my, you’re a poet!
Impossible!
Frayed knot!
Look at this brilliant rhyming structure!
And the vitriol is palpable.
Thank you. It’s all I ever wanted.
Wow! I think all you’re missing now is a secret lair deep in the heart of an active volcano.
Or a pineapple under the sea.
Awww…Sounds wike somebody woke up on the wong side of the bed this morning. Poor thing. Take your blankey over to the couch and just lie down until you feel better.
Will the sky still be there when I wake up, or can you make it go away?
I’ll see if we can’t cover it up with some big black clouds.
Nice!
I will never look at the sky in the same way after you opened my eyes.
I’m humbled by your appreciation.
I wish you had found a word to rhyme with vitriol…
Literal?
you literally did it…