Very Bad Poetry

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It's difficult to understand how, in this age of information, poems that merely miss the mark can be tossed into the cold world to fend for themselves, only to whither and be forgotten.

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Poem 464

Very Bad Archive

Shuss,,It's Me Bobby

Robert Hawkins

I'm whispering.
I think Wteve Sakeling.
Suspects me.
Robert Hawkins.
Of shooting up a mall,
In Omaha.
Between you and me.
I just put a down payment.
On a jar of 'Jiffy' peanut butter.
I can't afford bullets.
Muchless a gun to put them in.
I am trying to score some bread.
Or at least the dough.
And if I had the compulsion.
To shoot and kill.
My beloved government.
Would be all to happy.
And send my butt.
To Iraq, Iran.
Even Afghanistan.

With me as a target.
Why on earth do they need you?
Is it that the other,
Robert Hawkins.
In a morgue by the way.
But you thought it was me.
That's what you get for thinking.
You still thinking?
Now you know why there after me.
Your really inconsiderate.
To think.
I'm the only famous,
Robert Hawkins.
In history.
Awww,, pashaw.
Your making me blush.
rlh

note: Honey De you believe me don't you?
I'm still here in Texas.
Ask Emily she was just here.

Robert Hawkins has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Robert's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Robert's latest works:

A Day, of Bobby as interpeted, Emily Reeve

Submitted Aug 2nd, 22:52

Trilogy by Emily Reeve #3

Submitted Jul 27th, 21:49

Trilogy by Emily Reeve #2

Submitted Jul 27th, 21:35