Prose-stitute

Why

Oh why

Oh why!

Does it all have to be angst and sadness and emotional madness?

There’s so much joy to be had.

Playground laughter

Love ever-after

Everything doesn’t go bad.

Are writers all sorrow

Bemoaning tomorrow,

Decrying the present and past?

Can you not raise a smile?

Celebrate for awhile

Rejoice and stop being aghast!

Write about puppies and flowers and rain

And celebrate all that is good

The mood hoovers here are destroying my brain

And stealing my positive mood.

You promise the earth and take all my words

Then leave me with anguish and tears

Like a withered old whore, you empty me out

As you have done with others for years.

You think you’re a pro

But I’ll tell you, I know

Your words are creating black holes

And we’ll all get sucked in

Like a great sadness bin

Forevermore stealing our souls.

This Institute of Prose

Is breaking my heart.