You think poetry's all sunshine and lollipops

Greeting card verses in fine hand by polyglots

You think it's all moon and june and song of the loon

And raining on plains in Spain and

Refrains in melodic whispers

waxing rhapsodic with Grecian goddess sisters

but it RANTS

and it RAILS

and it WAILS

flailing fists to punch out the night sky

leaving stars like scars as the clouds cry

weeping for anger steeping like

an overbrewed tea of loathing

while your clothing is rent in mourning

anger adorning you as

thoughts collude in a stew of

bitter brine of attempts and flops that's

not all sunshine and lollipops