The Stinking Poem

So what if my words don't relate to you?

Another poem penned in blue

A trash, a raw, a beginners line.

Jokes aside :But you're wasting your time.

If you think it's a love poem, you're wrong.

If you think it's a mourning for lover, you're wrong.

'Cause poems don't always have sense all fenced.

Conscience and rules are now burning through lens.

Wait;

Did you write that shit when it came to your mind

Of dirty socks ruining it's white?

A photograph that moved and winked at you?

Or a squint in your eyes, all burning bright?

About a fallen leaf in your garden?

Or a time when you sneezed without a pardon?

A flower, a juice, food or gun

No offence, but that dirty pun.

A boon a bane and the all burnt sun

Like your toast with no hun.

Poetry is not a serious stuff

Not always about thorns and scrubs

But about a flower in that scrub

To see life after a bluff.

So the next time you're stuck at a thought

Of barking horses or neighing cats.

Write that crap on a diary named-

'The stinking poem' #not so lame.