I am tired of the sad poems
The words that have been said before
Boys off to war
I’m sighing out love poems
Like I’ve never heard the works of wonders
Of the unsaid I love you
I am laying down for every no one ever realized they loved me
Till it was a too late poem
I’m fainting at the sight of anger
Red hot and blue
Like an abusive bruise
That, someone, took the time to choose
To become the bearer and the wearer of bad news
I’m yawning between the pages and
Phrases of stringing words
To create ideas and nations
Of thoughts so carefully thought up
Just to throw up and spit out