World of a frustrated writer by Brin Raizulli Isaac
Welcome to the world of broken fountain pens
and skies not made of blue blankets.
Where women would write about men,
and men would need electric outlets.
Welcome to the world of split ink
where sometimes we would not think,
because ignorance is damn stupid,
and I think it’s really putrid.
Welcome to the world of ripped parchments
that are just scatted in my apartment.
I sit here writing about preposterous people,
and never tell anyone as I scribble.
If you want to copy this poem, please tell me in the comments.