...a poetic quandary

 I loved animals too much so I couldn't trap

So I went online and typed out some...crayons

I'd never go back to see what people thought

If they thought it was good...or a whole pile of rot.

I know a lot of words that rhyme

But to make a thought coherent-SUBLIME!

Too much critique I cannot take

Just like being hit with a rake

Now full of holes that are entered by moles

And after the moles, the owls fly in

Bringing cold pizza and smelling of gin

And with all this inside me

Well aware garden tools aren't free

I try to do just what I can

When there are no ingredients to make a flan

I stand on the beach and look out past the reef

And wonder if I'm causing much grief

TA-DA!

Show all stories by   Author:  5301 ( Click here )