All writing is pig-****
what do we do it for
are we trying to be recognized
like a two dollar *****

We think we are something special
appearing on radio shows from contests
but soon these words will have been forgotten
we are truly only Poetry’s house guests

In an age of the digital world
we think we shall live on
forgetting the true feel of writing
and on what this poetry is drawn

But our journals will waste away
words that mattered not
now smeared across the page
looking barely visible and squat

No matter what we do
we are no Dickinson or Poe
our words will never measure up
these words are pig-****, I know