To bake the first human pies
in cups
They soon became a hit
So he started mixing in shit
The health inspectors came
And declared Jack insane
They wanted him behind bars
But instead he became a star
But Jack hated his fame
So he shot himself in May

Post yours

Shit it got cut off

Just put all of Marie's poems here, I always skipped them.

^ I read them the first time, then skipped then every other time

I have a poem, but I wouldn't exactly call it bad. I made it Myself and its a metaphor for depression. wanna hear it?

I am a machine,

My body suffers
From years of rust

Am I forever doomed to know the predictable sorrows of the waking world?

Please, master, grant me...
...rest...

...So I may forget the sins that torment my soul...

Go for it man

Roses are Grey,
Violets are Grey,
I am a dog.
Woof.