Infuriated

Once again, my creative writing ASSHOLE professor strikes again. Our latest assignment is was a free-write open poem that had to have an intentional form. Then we had to have a consultation with him so he could proof it before we turn in a final copy. This is what I came up with:

Here at Home
Bombs are raining from the sky,
diving to the earth.
Wars are raging through the world,
in every nation.
Famine plagues the population
in every empire.
Clean water cannot be found
in rivers, lakes, streams.

But here at home
all is as should be:
Boys and men kill each other
for any reason.
They seek to destroy themselves
to not be destroyed.
Women, young girls starve themselves
to look too perfect.
They cry crystal tears that crack
their perfect faces.

Elsewhere things are horrible,
as we have been told.
Everywhere else things are bad;
we should feel lucky.

But here at home
all is as should be.

( My commentary on this piece, and then his comments on this piece. )