Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
These swords leave scores of sores of course. And scars that rise by and by . Beat out lines in Braille and Morse, to that overwhelming force. Of fine on coarse then coarse on fine, and in the wind all fine, all time. Though we wine and dine And polish til shine, it ain't all Shinola.
0
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 8:20 PM UTC
Shinola
These swords leave scores of sores of course. And scars that rise by and by . Beat out lines in Braille and Morse, to that overwhelming force. Of fine on coarse then coarse on fine, and in the wind all fine, all time. Though we wine and dine And polish til shine, it ain't all Shinola.
matt-lautar
Written by
American
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 8:20 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem