This Is Not Poetry

Part I : Why are you here?

This is not poetry,
Why are you here?
I warned you on the cover,
I believe I was quite clear.

I told you what it was,
Or on the other hand,
Maybe I didn't,
I'm sorry if I caused a buzz,
But I showed you exactly what it isn't.

You opened it anyway,
Tell me,
What were you expecting?
Did you believe I'd be sitting here,
While on my life I'd be reflecting?
Did you think I'd be creative,
Thinking up some kind of rhyme?
Oh please, dearest reader,
I hardly got the time.

I'd rather go to bed,
Without these thoughts in my head,
'Cause the part I most dread,
Is when I feel my poetry is dead.
I'd rather write about fantasy,
Or something with insanity,
Just not with so much profanity,
Because it could cause a calamity.

I'm not much of a poet,
If I am, I'd hardly know it.
Poetry is the one thing I'm trying to avoid,
And by this point,
I'm starting to feel a bit annoyed.
The rhymes never match,
The words aren't quite a catch,
Don't get me started on prose,
I'm thinking about burning those.

I have nothing to say,
So please go away,
Come back another day,
When I have something amazing to display.
And no matter what you might believe this to be,
Whatever you may think,
This is not poetry!