Thy quill hath become somewhat weary Writing poems daily without any respite On the bullet casing one shall now bite A break away to restore thy energy Vigor hath drained to a very low point Penning poetic lines so exhausting Time out is required for recharging Thy quill's black ink doth not want to anoint Within the next day or so I'll return Feeling more refreshed and full of vim Thy cannot keep pouring words on a page Of late the candle hath done a high burn Thy powers to write are becoming dim To have a session of rest is most sage
How did it go Around and around Thick and thin Slivers of beads And evil piercing shrapnel
Bangbang Two swipes And gone were they From the world. No one knows Where they went But they are so far gone That no hospital machine can bring them back.
P-Postponing all those things until another time R-Rostering them for attention down the track O-Offering all sorts of excuses stalls one's climb C-Constantly one defers the mounting job stack R-Repeatedly ignoring their pealing bell chimes A-Acting upon them requires an assertive knack S-Still one avers in responding to their rhymes T-Taking not a step forward nor any back I-Initiative and get in and do it isn't one's paradigm N-Never does one heed their ever tolling clacks A-Always sitting in an idle non moving show time T-The day shall arrive with a great waking whack I-Into motion one shall soon be called to climb O-On one's toes the chores are waiting in the rack N-No more disregarding the many sounding chimes
I shouldn't have said what I did but the things that I said were true they hurt the people that I said them to but I live with the things that I said they are ever ingrained in my head for being honest in what I had said to them has made me an outcast and I now feel their cold windy blasts but I live with me and with my honesty