Sometimes I Write Shit Poetry

From time to time I look below my thoughts
I sometimes find the depth of what I feel
Frustration ties my heart in ugly knots
As I express emotions that are real
Like anger, which conforms to bloody heat
Embarasses my reason with its gore
Emotions unexpressed are incomplete
I think that’s what sonnettics may be for
My lack of sleep is marked by lack of dreams
The cords that bind my heart are things I’ve lost
No matter what I find or do, it seems
I’d rather cut the cords at any cost
I’m just a damn good poet, not a saint
Sometimes I’m like an artist without paint.