Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
59degreesPoems
This poem is death to write Everything about peace is a blight Upon moods of melancholy that strike Hour and season alike. Each of my sentences grow too stout, I think I am nearing burn out I must conclude about this rhyme, I don’t give a ****
0
May 13, 2024
May 13, 2024 at 11:56 PM UTC
Can you tell I hate rhymes?
This poem is death to write Everything about peace is a blight Upon moods of melancholy that strike Hour and season alike. Each of my sentences grow too stout, I think I am nearing burn out I must conclude about this rhyme, I don’t give a ****
needed some trash to clear the palate
#rhyme#satire
Written by
59degrees
20/F
May 13, 2024
May 13, 2024 at 11:56 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem