Get Your Premium Membership

Warped: a Thug's Manifesto

Poet's Notes
(Show)

Become a Premium Member and post notes and photos about your poem like Janice Canerdy.


See the source image

Racism makes me want to puke. I’ll hurl a brick or two. I’ll loot a store to make my point. Who’ll help me? How ‘bout YOU? I’m chilled by cops’ brutality. Who do they think they are? I’ll set some fires and knock folks down and cuss till eardrums jar. Huge crowds are marching peacefully. The signs they hoist are lame. If they cared deeply as I do, they wouldn’t be so tame! I don’t have time to tote a sign. I’ve got to find a place to store the stuff I stole—because racism’s a disgrace! *************** The truth? I’m just a thug at heart. I LIVE for times like these. They give me an excuse to do exactly as I PLEASE! This is my attempt at withering sarcasm! Posted June 7, 2020 June 17, 2020 entered in John Hamilton's contest placed 4th Favorite poem 2020 not written for a contest

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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

Date: 6/18/2020 11:09:00 AM
Very timely write Janice, well done, congrats on a fine placement!
Login to Reply
Canerdy Avatar
Janice Canerdy
Date: 6/18/2020 11:11:00 AM
THANKS a million, John! :-) Janice
Date: 6/9/2020 12:58:00 AM
enjoyed the wit and the flow of this piece.
Login to Reply
Date: 6/8/2020 1:32:00 PM
I don't know about withering, but you certainly walked in a COVIDIOT's shoes! Aloha! Rico
Login to Reply
Canerdy Avatar
Janice Canerdy
Date: 6/8/2020 1:52:00 PM
Thanks so much, Rico. Yes, the vandalizing thugs are also possibly passing on the virus! Janice
Date: 6/7/2020 8:17:00 PM
Witty welcome sarcasm ;), xomo!
Login to Reply
Canerdy Avatar
Janice Canerdy
Date: 6/7/2020 8:24:00 PM
Thanks a million, Pigeon. Janice

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry