I thought I was a genius when I was 16.
I would write something like:
“Absurd slurred words are blurred, heard then transferred.”
Always changing his mind and values.
Now I hate words that rhyme.
I hate lines that flow in time.
What I like now is unnecessarily long sentences that just seem to look out of place.
Are all welcome.
To read and judge.
I don’t give a fudge.
Although I think it will just be me seeing this.
So what’s the point?
Bip bap a roo.
Do do, do you?
Don’t know how to end this.
Something that links to the first part of the poem.
I don’t know.
16 year old me would know.
He would know the perfect thing to say to tie it all up.
That guy was a genius.