I guess its time to tip the flask while taking up another task writing down my hurt and pain in messages, I bleed in vain.
Taking leave, I bid adieu thanking them & thanking you hope I find inspired thought else it seems, it's all for naught?
Trouble brought by words we say, or folded hands we teach & pray, perhaps I'll write another day?
Until then, I say farewell, in stories I may never tell, intentions good, paving roads we're hoping to relieve the load.
Kissed by luck & slapped by fate I live by love, & not by hate so here's to them & here's to you something that we all must do scraping off the sticky shoe & all the nasty residue...
A poets heart is sometimes frail while looking for the Holy Grail in spinning webs, a haunting tale this time of year reminds us all someone must have quite the gaul, to write of leaves and how they fall
Seems I've got a poetic curse, I suppose that things, they could be worse keep on spilling, verse and verse
Lifting up the bones I bury, diggingΒ Β down can be quite scary sometimes even slightly harry even though I'm kinda wary