Organize
Things that matter.
Not useless data.
Unlest without your behest.
Cooked up by the NSA.
And the Mad Hatter.
In the end all is just chatter.
Trying not to shatter.
Either by pity patter or splatter.
If I had my druthers bruthas (and sistas).
I'll take the latter.
Organize or scatter.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
