These poems are supposed to not be edited or sweated over. I typed this one in five minutes as it just flowed. I kinda like it. It's untitled for now.
April 1, 2013 Poem #1
A foolish fool finds a way to foul his faith
By other’s pride he or she trades away
Her time, his skill, her love, his will,
Until all stops and seems a joke
There’s smoke, is it white or black?
A shoe that falls and echoes the halls
Again and again
No one laughs
Some cry
Others try to remember why it is supposed to be funny.
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