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I've had enough
of the words of rhyme
Locked away behind
the bars of stanzas
doing time

All the hopes
and wanna be dreams . . .
Just more nightmares
with chilling screams

No I had it !
and I don't want anymore
I don't want someone knocking with words to implore

Go take your metre ,
Yellow pencils number four
I don't want to hear you
knocking on my door

You can go post
and share with the world
Shelly , Keats , Byron . . .
They all make me feel sterile

A sonnet for your bonnet
Haiku for beret
You can put a quill to it
Go have your good Shakespearean
day
 Jul 2019 Pagan Paul
JaxSpade
In my lap
Milk in a saucer
I'm the cat
That killed curiosity
Before it could attack

In my head
Board in my bed
Knocking against the walls
Nothing to do
But fall to sleep
I'd rather dream
Than fiend for something
That'll never be
In my hands

In my brain
My soul complains
It's trapped
In the flesh of my heart
Aches

It begs for a heaven
But hell if it knows
Where that is

In my end
It begins
To create
A lifes death
So it could live

I turn on the dark
So I could see the light
Switch

And the root of all money
Scratches my palms funny
For the price of evil
Only costs a man
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