The Poet
The Poet was wasted.
Like leftovers after lunch.
A plate of wilted salad.
A half eaten burger, soggy with ketchup.
A cold limp fry.
He wanted someone to pay attention.
Savor, digest and appreciate him.
But they spat him out,
cleared the plates,
and threw him in the dumpster.
E.G. Maynard.
46 & 2.
3.
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.
