Publish, or perish is a waste of my time,
I'd rather sit and watch the lame entertainment of a mime.
If i stare to long i may go blind,
yet if i don't do anything in this class ill pay the fine.
I sip my coffee and become distracted,
I really don't want Greene's rude reaction.
I greatly hope i get this right,
If i don't there must be a fight.
Rhyming is nothing special but i know nothing else.
I feel so useless like a day old dead mouse.
Ill continue this poem until the block ends,
no one can distract me as I have no friends.
Jarred, Kristian, and Alex must not like Fridays
so i sit here alone of a moment of my daze.
The energy of the room is really awkward,
it reminds me of the deceased Lord Farquaad.
Shrek was a movie none can forget,
I hate this damn poem I'm beginning to regret.
Its almost over then i have to comment your work,
leave some good feed back don't be a huge jerk.
If your poems as lame as mine,
we'll really have to hang sometime.
We can write a lame story to publish to the world
but first i gotta go I really have to hurl.
This poem was really... difficult to keep up with. The beat of it was a little off, and the subject a little askew. And the grammar could be worked on. There was no real guide line or plot to the poem either, although I liked the diary-like tone you put to it. Switching up the rhyme sequence the times you did was a little distracting and caused me to need to start over again. Some revision and a different topic, and I think you have a winner.
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