Bad Poetry Friday

There’s a reason I call this bad poetry Friday. This really sucks.



Alone (c. 1994)

She waits for a letter

or the phone to ring

To hear a voice

and the news it brings


Nobody writes

and nobody calls

So it seems that nobody cares at all


She does not exist to the people around her

All she is is yesterday’s splendor


Her tears

she’s crying

Nobody sees

that she’s dying


She is lonely

she cries and fears

until nothing is left

but a puddle of tears



Told you it was bad.

Also: “Yesterday’s splendor”- wtf?

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