Fine, I'll Do It Pt. 2 (Just a Poem about a Dream) by Eric Sparks

I once took a walk through the forest
and as I was stepping over logs, I saw
a small frog who was jumping along,
I probably would have let him be if he
hadn't reminded me of a certain writer that
I always wanted to be. So I followed him along
as he croaked a mournful song until we
reached his destination. It was a fallen space station
that was only filled with books. I took one look
through the titles and I became slightly bothered;
the names that I saw were only my favorite authors.

Sartre Jr. Goes to the Doctor by Eric Sparks

I remember how my finger tips felt when they took my finger prints,
alien. And I wouldn't linger another minute if they had said that I was finished.
Help. All I wanted was to leave that clinic; my self had been abolished and diminished. Hell.
I stiffened up, went rigid, when they told me not to fidget. Bells. I heard them tolling
in the distance. I asked the doctor why and he told me it was Christmas. Christmas already?
But I hadn't made my wishlist. Well, that wasn't my fault; Santa never listened. My presents went missing.