Too Many Choices

In english class, we recently read Robert Frost's 'Two Roads in a Wood' poem, or whatever the hell it's called. We were then assigned to write a poem about choice. My original idea was to write about different kinds of cereal, but my final decision was much better:

I could sit in bed, fake a terrible cough

Not do the assignment and just blow it off.

However, I could get an F in the class

And into High School I never would pass.

A poem by Thursday? My God, that’s insane!

Homework should be banned, it gives me great pain.

I could choose to do it or sit on the couch

And eat bags of Cheetos in a comatose slouch.

I could put it off and then do it at break

But that would just give me a splitting headache.

It’s not enough time, it makes me just sick

Plus I procrastinated ‘till Wednesday at six.

This assignment is driving me out of my mind

The poem’s not finished and it’s almost nine!

I could run away and then go on the lam

And fly to Namibia or Amsterdam.

But really, I know it’s inevitable

I’ll go into class, and then heads will roll.

The thing will be turned in a couple days late

I might as well resign myself to this fate.

It’s better than putting myself through pure hell

Finishing the assignment around about twelve.

And coming to school like a sleep-deprived ape

And falling asleep in class around eight.

I might’ve just done it a bit day by day

Finished it days ahead and then gotten an A.

But apparently that is not my destiny

The poem’s not finished and it’s almost three.

My bed is just screaming “Come lay down, you jerk!”

“The poem aint’ finished, it’s just too much work!”

I could have collapsed in my bed around then

But I plodded on and I didn’t give in.

And when I awoke, my poem was done

I don’t know how it happened, but I wrote a TON.

I made the right choice, so give me an A

I worked way too much to just throw it away.

There you have it. I pasted it from Pages, so the typeface is a little off. Eventually, of course, I chose to write the stupid thing. Still, it's a strong entry to my Bad Poetry file. The last line really makes it. The genius of this poem comes from the fact that I wrote the poem about how much I didn't want to write the poem.

Bye!