Bonus Poem of the Week: Freedom Call of a Former Comic Book Reader

Freedom Call of a Former Comic Book Reader
August 24, 2016

I just don’t care anymore.
It matters not what’s in store.
I chose to walk away,
After all, one day,
On account of things being a bore.

I don’t care about all the buzz.
The industry ain’t what it was
Once upon a time
When things were sublime,
So please don’t waste my time, cuz.

This new stuff you’re showing me
Ain’t what the old stuff used to be—
Not that it’s that bad
Compared to what I had.
It simply isn’t for me.

The characters in this brand
Range from uninspired and bland
To obnoxious and dumb
To where I succumb
Tearing this issue ‘part with my hands.

These plots, too, are plain asinine,
Written by some uncultured swine
With no love for the lore
This brand once had in store,
Which had once made it a fave of mine.

The heroes I used to root for
Have all been killed off by the score,
Dying left and right,
Never again to fight
Which alone sickens me to the core…

‘Til I se they’ve been replaced by geeks,
Losers, morons, hypocrites, and freaks
Whom I’ll never care about
‘Cause this crap’s gone far south
With the likes of such miserable “tweaks.”

The villains also do nothing
To add any kind of zing
To these boring-ass yarns
Of which I’ve been forewarned,
Which makes me more tempted to fling

This issue into my waste bin,
For that’s the mood I’m now in:
Dejected and betrayed
At the mess that’s been made
Of my once-fave franchise. What a sin!

Then again, you seem to take to
What I’m now calling crap, don’t you?
That’s why you’re still standing
Here while I’m demanding
These shenanigans to be through.

You clearly enjoy this stuff
To the point where you can’t get enough.
That’s why you came to me,
Ain’t it, so I can see
In hopes I wouldn’t be so gruff?

You’d hoped I’d catch on to your mirth
And join in, for all it’s worth,
In everything that which
Leaves you in a stitch,
And yet, here I see no such worth.

I hope, then, you can forgive me
For crying ‘bout how things used to be
And how much they’ve changed
And have been rearranged
Since the days I was as young as thee.

Here, then. Take your comic back
So that at night when you hit the sack,
You’ll have something to
Invest yourself into
While I’m left alone resting on my back.

Let’s face it: My days as a fan
Of the industry are gone, young man.
Like I said, ‘twas my choice,
So who’m I to voice
My disdain like some shell of a man?

I’m glad, then, that there’s someone
Who can garner an iota of fun
From something I don’t,
Whether I’ll try or won’t
‘Fore the fading of Heaven’s hot sun.

To each one’s own, after all,
So there’s no sense in bouncing off walls,
‘Specially since I’ve moved on
Like I’ve said in this song,
Which I guess one could call my freedom call.


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