POEM - Dead Lines

All

I

Can

Say

Is

There is a very good reason

Deadlines

Are called

Deadlines

As I crease lines in my furrowed brow

Scratch lines through my thinning hair

Watch line after line of incoherent data

Lead me in a straight line

To an unavoidable

Possibly early

Death

Well, I just want to scream

Take my wireless mouse

And introduce it to the window

Forcibly

At high velocity

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!

And now my problems are a big pink bubble

And I pile some more in

And I blow on the delicate sphere

Sending it floating gently into the universe

Until . . .

            It. . .

                        Goes . . .

                                                           

POP!!!

So

Very

Satisfying

The

Sound

Of

Dead

Lines

Passing!