I, Ill type. And that will be enough.Then there are the other days, when nothing is enough. The poem grins. It grins because it knows it is a terrible poem. It grins in embarrassment. It grins in pity. It grins in superiority. I may be a terrible poem, it grins, but at least I have one comfort. At least Im not a terrible poet. At least Im not the guy who sat in front of a typewriter for two hours coming up with the likes of me.

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Themes

  • Poetry — The art of language, rhythm, and emotional expression

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