How to be a poet

by I don't know

Copyright © 2002 by Richard J. Sereday Jr.
All rights reserved

He was the ugly human
his heart was in a rage,

and all his grief and anger,
it poured out on no page.

He wasn't happy with his life,
the world it was he blamed.

He bashed his head against the wall,
that day he went insane.

In his coat with sleeves of white
tied behind his back,

he sat in pools of his own drool,
and screamed throughout the night.