It’s a terrible book. So hard to read.
Is it really such trash? Then make it ash.
No need to act like you like it so.
I know you’re burning just to let it go.

There’s no real sage between these pages.
Mental gyrations never tend to engage you.
I caught you smiling but was that so real?
I can’t really say but I know how you feel.

So now that the ink has stained your brain.
The paper cuts, they made you insane.
Now that the words are a big fat mush.
You can hush right up and light it up.

It takes a spark just to end this lark,
A little swish from the candle stick.
A puff of smoke and this joke is toast.
There’ll be nothing left of these words I wrote.

Reason will fade in the swirling flame.
Thoughts will get lost in the blurry haze.
If your mind’s made up then what’s to say?
I named it that way, so just do it OK.

Don’t let these words tend to lead you astray.
Settle on down and have it your way.
The bridges you burn are made of straw.
Burning a book’s not against the law.

Unless you do it in a public place.
Then, of course, you’ll have an egg on your face.
You can burn the words if you think it’s alright and
Flicker away in its glowing light.

Here’s the secret to your growing angst.
A simple solution to your mental trance.
Your mind’s made up so don’t get sick.
Just flick your Bic and get done with it.