Tuesday, May 21, 2013

FOR THE TROUBLE SEEKER


Why should I fight
When I can write?

Rhyme you a punch
Plant slaps in blank verse
In sonnets I'll bunch
Curses, your hearse

Predict your doom
In a triolet's refrain
Weave from my pen's loom
Doom's unending rain...

Do, yes say
I'll just walk away!

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