A Cinnabontastic NPM – #7 Stream of Consciousness

No time to think
no time to ponder
what to write about
how significant will I sound
will everybody like this
will everybody like me
why am I even writing poems anyways
i’m nowhere near as good as my amazing poet friends
who seem to astound everyone with a single word
they say “confluence” and everybody goes
“OOOOOH THAT SHIT IS DEEP, SON”
while I only get that effect
after a blocky worded attempt
to describe what love means to me
but comes off as a cold, standoff-ish analysis
that would’ve been better off written by a robot.

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