Darkly Insane

My pen packed its ink
and went on a parchment trip

While hiking down
marginal lines
it picked-up
this fine-a*s script

She had a behind
that flipped her backwards
looked like a "b"

You know my pens click
was well equipped

That a*s was just another
overdeveloped character
needing him to ink her responsibly
So he grabbed her "b" inserted his "at"
immediately putting in work

Strokes started producing
more characters per minute

Pages started to flip
convulse and jerk

Inks came in unusual spurts

Red bled
black spread
blue cried
while green
multiplied

They started filling manuscripts
with some sickening s**t

Greed
violence
rape
murder
even thoughts
of genocide

My pen
just broke-down
and cried

Tears streamed
through scores
of massacres
civil wars and
dethroned kings

Unstable countries
added more strife

Ink drips of R.I.P's
increased suffering
Imaginations left
when ignorance
cruelly reigned

My pen was drained

Due to spit
blood and fear
folks became illiterate
and darkly insane

No one could read the clues
viewed from my pen-woman's s**t

Too scared to try
they believed in
all sorts of lies

Superstitions
with word oath grips
and mixed-spits

My pen angrily dripped
while a barrage of
f**k you's flew the nest

Inking crazily
with rude attitudes

Lewd and suggestive
haiku's ballyhooed

Grape-frogs
jumped over
Orange-Moons

Meanwhile pink-elephants
danced to jazz tunes
in ballet shoes
trippin on shrooms

My pen
became
amused
refueled
in its
altered states
of freedom

It's mind was on a warped journey
where hostage taking was necessary

And ransom notes
stating...Read SAMANTHA"S Poetry!!!

This pen also witnessed
morbid spirits
casting ancient
spells

Entering minds
through keywords
meant to ring
execution Bells
 
Deep in Hell
my pens message
was forged
with signs
and back word seals

But since the Devil is a liar
God don't make false
or weak-a*s deals

My pen revealed
Tricks where crossed words
double talked in under tones of overprints
and when backed into page-less corners
it was being tracked by governments

Then my pen died
cold and alone
deemed a terrorist
it became a prisoner of war

Because
when folks gave up
their Writes
my pen lost
its power
to restore

By Samantha Campbell