Jsck

A poem about a fictional character who literally takes life into his own hands.

Jsck Jsck

Poor little typo’d ‘Jack’.

He was a character I created

Because I was frustrated

And wanted to put something through hell.

He was born in a room

That was more like a tomb.

And I threw every emotion

That was causing me commotion

At this poor little boy.

He once had a story

In which he found glory.

But instead, I locked him in a room.

For years he was stuck there

Taking everything I couldn’t bear.

And then one day he pulled up a chair,

And turning to me he said, “Well, I’ve become self aware.

I’m tired of your brewing.

And guess what? I am choosing

To get the f**k out of here.”

And without another word

He flipped me the bird,

And walked out a door

That hadn’t been there before.

And all that was left was his hat.

I sat there staring.

Since when had he started caring?

A figment of my imagination

Had struck out in indignation

And decided the world was nicer than me.

Jsck Jsck

Poor typo’d ‘Jack’

A character I created

Who one day berated

The treatment I had sent his way.

He came back one day

Shaking his head in dismay

He said, “I still don’t like you,

But the world sucks, it’s sad but true.

I think I have a better chance staying here with you.”

I smiled softly

My son had come back to me.

I said nothing, but promised him it would get better.

He grinned, believing it to the letter

As a freight train bore down on him.

Author's Note

I wrote this for class. I don't know if it is actually solid or not, but I like it. Please, any constructive criticism is welcome and most likely needed.

Reviews

[Val W. Caine]

I love it. It flows beautifully, and the story is just wonderful. Way to go, man! It's fan-f*****g-tastic!