I can't think! My poems stink!
My rhymes just stare blankly and seldomly blink.
My writing is crabby, my citing is flabby
My verses were cursed by my three year old tabby.
"Not feeling inspired?" my doctor inquired,
"Maybe your muse feels abused and retired?"
"Here are some pills, they're crunchy and pink.
Take two at bedtime with plenty of drink!
By morning your musings will bandage their bruising.
Your rhymes will be chiming and bouncing and cruising!"
"He's a real pro." I thoughtfully thinked.
Munching on meds I then said, "All right pink,
let's cure my write crisis and restock my ink!"
As late evening crept, I slept and I dreamed.
I originally created this account for the sole purpose of commentating on current social and political issues that are of importance to me, all the while not calling out any particular political party. This is still where I stand, but I find myself unable to remain silent on the insanity which has currently gripped politics.
I will say Trump was far from being my first choice of candidate (like Hillary). I consider myself as more of a leftist on many issues, but on days like these, I would be too ashamed to ever wear such a label. I am sick of feminist, LGBT, BLM social justice warriors, and other liberal lunatics resorting toward t