Sign my Yearbook

A rather obvious title for a rather obvious poem.

Here's the pen, here's the book-

There's a space inside if you take a look-

Oh, write anything, I don't really care,

Just something to fill up the room over there.

I know that when I'm fat and old

Disagreeing with everything I'm told-

I'll want to flip back and see;

See if when I was young, people could stand me.

In all truth, it's a sorry attempt

Since the dawn of time I was a source of contempt-

Ignored, a bore, a total snore

Bizarre, afraid and unsure.

My only friends have been my words-

And what purpose do they have when unheard?

So go ahead and sign, if you please

A few lines of insincerity, not too diseased

Something simple, that won't reach my mind

I have eyes but I want to feel blind-

Now, don't take all too long-

Otherwise I'm sure you'll get it wrong.

A false wish or compliment is all you need

It'll be easier for me to go back and read.

The End

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