As I wonder round
My palace room
I wish that I was drunk
Writing poetry
With random bends
Unmarked so I couldn't flunk
But instead I carry
A burden so real
It almost breaks my soul
I'm taking steps
I'm diminishing virtue
To ditch my cumbersome role
Xxxxx
Linked up at Sunday whirl.
3 comments:
...i'm taking into consideration thinking how one can write good with an accompanying drink or the likes...
smiles...
Even though your steps are dubious (to my way of thinking), at least you are taking steps!
Whirling with Bram Stoker
That has the air of a lament to it.
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