Bad Poetry

Most men lead lives of quiet desperation
and go to the grave with the song still in them."
- Henry David Thoreau

quiet man
desperately pull the weeds
fertilize your lawn until
it's a sea of aseptic greens
sterile grass without strife
but without interest
and without life
a quiet lawn
a quiet man

quiet man
you've made a blank canvas
yet have no paint
you've a lined sheet for music
yet have no notes to sing
I guess we will write
something profound on your
tombstone
the headpiece that may
be your life's only punctuation
mark set in the green pages of a
cemetery

Period.