Not bad as a Triolet. I usually dislike using thee and lest but but it seems to work ok here.

Here's a girly with multiple letters, in her name, scorifying her "betters". But of course she's just jealous, she'd love having some fellas -- if she'd only the bits to go get hers!

THings must be pretty desperate when you're plagiarizing fucking Lil' John.

Something about this I like. Not sure what it is.

Sure is more creative and solid than the usual-- "I hate you, you bastard, stabbed me in the heart, I'm stronger, don't need you, you'll regret dumping or cheating on me, blarg, blarg, etc, etc." I almost gave up the hope that somebody would put some thought into an "uprooting" poem. Blessed with eight.

Like it DGB. You're pretty good at the storytelling poem thing..I'll give you that.

That Satan...always tricking people.

I saw the movie..Michael K. Fox...not his best, but it'll do. I don't remember all this from the movieee but ok....

better.

Ok, but it seems to me that if your life sucks in the Winter, it's probably still going to suck in the spring..

Not a bad sentiment here. That God is a funny character. Always doing things to upset the legions of peons that he created. Kind of like an ant farm, we are. Little kid has an ant farm..gets bored, shakes it up and ruins all their tunnels...mmhmm

waaaaaaaaaayy too much rhyme for my taste, and forced in places at that. Kind of pretty though in places.

Except for the nothing to look forward to line, this is kind of ok. Not really a lyric yet, but keep working on it.

I must admit it..I have no fucking clue what this is about.

Anyone want to place bets on how long it will be before their new president gets blown up?

way to many grammer mistakes to take this poem even slightly serious. Sounds a bit angsty and should go under pimple poetry.

Yes I agree you have lack of thought in this poem. If you're going to write a poem that everybody writes about you have knock it out of ball feild to make it stand alone and seprate it from the rest. You failed to do that in this poem.

There was a reader who claimed his frustration because twixt the limericks there was no relation. But he shouldn't complain -- for 't'ain't all who can claim they witnessed dada's revivification!

Hmm, so just what IS this "depth of illusion" painter's muse? an allusion? delusion? ..ah no, it's in BD's pants, you see it's his little fantasy -- that he has while he rubs his protrusion.

Wait...what? I...I don't get it..Probably all that weed I smoked earlier..Oh well..I'll grant you with a 10..The rule on this site seems to be that all good poems are confusing with all the big..words..and stuff..anyways...Always pass the dutch to the left..Cuz the right way is wrong..PEACE