A poem a day in April from Rutgers English PhD students and friends.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Bad Poem #1 (Killing itself)

My face has felt the anxiety of a smile
stuck out there for all to see.
How shall I proceed, when I feel not thus?
ee e e smmiiiille e ee e e e ee
e e eee e ee e ee e

Throw me under a bus.
What do smiles know
of woe?
e e eeeeeeeeeeeeeee e e e e e ee
e ee e e wwwwwwwwwwwoe

How we lie,

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