I have no idea what to say
words and prose abandon
thoughts and lines, no play
my rhyme and rhythm
in tension
Fires made from lesser stock
rubbing text gainst verse
not electrical, but shock
as poetry dispersed
Why O why the pains
straining against the tempo
everything again restrained
hiding deep, in shadow
Muse me this
or muse me that
every time a ruse
not what I had thought or planned
winding up
self abused
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 6:48 PM UTC
I have no idea what to say
words and prose abandon
thoughts and lines, no play
my rhyme and rhythm
in tension
Fires made from lesser stock
rubbing text gainst verse
not electrical, but shock
as poetry dispersed
Why O why the pains
straining against the tempo
everything again restrained
hiding deep, in shadow
Muse me this
or muse me that
every time a ruse
not what I had thought or planned
winding up
self abused
Why do words wrestle me so?
and confound and confuse?
not working where I want to go
not doing what
I choose?
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