"conceded" poems
I don’t think you understand,
because I don’t, this wasn’t what I planned.
So I’m wondering how you can understand, when I don’t.
I won’t lose myself loving you, I won’t.
You’ve got me feeling too many different things,
got me contemplating cutting our tethered strings.
Falling in love has me tripping
over my own two feet? Maybe. All I know is I’m slipping
face first into this tangled mess
and now guilt eats at me as I slip from your arms half dressed
in the mornings when all I want is to escape,
wishing I was Wonder Woman with that red cape.
I slip away, but it hurts-
but I’ve seen it; my family, we’re cursed.
Concerning love, we’ve had no luck
I can’t lose you, so I’m labeling us a causal ****
I hear you yelling now that you know my reasons,
promising our love could survive even the coldest season.
But how can he be so sure?
Doubts plague me as I slip toward his front door,
because love didn’t come with a brochure.
I hear you figuring aloud that I don’t love you enough.
You come to the conclusion,
“if this is how you feel, then I’ll set you free”
I got in my car, driving around till the clouds were dark and the clock said three.
Your words had been like knives,
but then I started thinking about my dad’s four wives.
My brain’s all jumbled,
it’s like there was one second left, I was on the one yard line, and I fumbled.
Is the risk worth it?
Could my heart even take the hit?
When I got home, in the dark I saw you standing
my heart was demanding
that I make my way over to you
but my brain said these feelings needed to be subdued.
I heard you say “I love you too much to set you free”
It was then when I looked in your eyes, love was all I could truly see.
My scalp tingled in realization,
as I floated toward you with some type of natural gravitation.
My heart had already taken the risk, without permission
and that’s when I mumbled my belated admission;
“I love you too and I’ll take my chances,”
My brain finally conceded to your romantic advances.
But really, truth was, I’d been under an illusion
because our love had always been a foregone conclusion.
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
As they walked along after the matinee, the older brother teased his sister, “Hey, guess what, Frankenstein lives in the attic and he’s goin’ get you.” With a flushed face the little sister responded, "Nah-ah, besides the attic door is locked." And her brother smirked, “Think Frankenstein cares about locked doors?"
Throughout their childhood, the brother jumped out behind closed doors, terrifying his little sister, and with each fright he gave his own fear seemed to lessen. After a startle the sister thought, ‘Does my brother love me, like I love him?’, and she concluded, “He must, why else would he try to scare me to death?’
Within the decade, a sudden brain hemorrhage took their dearly loved mother. Now, untethered in their mother’s love, the siblings changed, tightened, within, While their father, a traumatized, war veteran, swiftly fell off the wagon, and the brother and sister cast off, rudderless, uprooted into troubled waters.
And with their hearts snapped shut, immersed in relentless grief, they parted ways. Some years later, their father died, bequeathed them both his unhealed pain. The brother, the sister, slid secretively into alcoholism, conceded the family custom, invested deeply in their despair, the two went on, married, raised families, conformed.
And time went by, as alcohol soothed the pain until the brother breathed his last, his belly taut with fluid, his liver destroyed, a life sentence ended. While she, the lone survivor, mysteriously yielded unto Grace and was pardoned, recovered, she finally understood, she knew deep inside; everyone did the best they could, even her.
…and within a circle of one; I loved them all forever and ever.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
Well what can I say, he says I'm an ****
I just told him he was just full of air..
But we were the closest of friends and were
always found close together like pees in a pod.
*"So what's the plan for today windy,
"We just going to gas? or we just breathing in silence?*
**"I thought you were pulling the other cheek,
But all that comes out of you is crap Hahaha.....**
They were always getting each other in trouble with
one thing or another, if it wasn't **** holding wind in,
it was **** whispering in a lift. But not so silently,
more like a tiny trumpet going off for moments at a time.
There was one time were **** was letting off as usual,
but he let just a little too much out, and in that moment
he told ****
*"That was close, I was one **** away from a poo,*
**** couldn't contain himself and amusement turned
to horror as laughter had loosened both there grips.
And now Mr Poo who usually went diving in
the porcelain pools was now frequenting upon both.
I think I'm going to be sick said **** **** laughted and
then another friend of Poo's joined the party, cleanliness
was obsolete, now as it was like a food fight in close quarters.
Poo slipped out to freedom down the trouser leg and "SPLAT,
**** and **** stunned by poo's lack of grace. *"Could have
stayed for a while,* But **** conceded that he would have
just talked crap, like he did every time he popped out
to see his friends.
Well what could be said, a wet wipe, and **** forgot poo
had even been there. But his odour still lingered gently on.
**** was gassing on and **** clenched so not to
expel to much laughter.. especially in enclosed areas.
**** was just gassing, this duo were always going
be the closest of friends.
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 11:36 AM UTC
one time mary lambert told me that i am a ******* tree stump so i went outside to absorb the earth
always take time out of every day to go out without shoes on
feel the grass beneath your feet and between your toes
go out in public without shoes as well
do not be self-conscious
do not blush and curl in your toes when people stare
always remember that feet are weird anyway
always be proud of your weird parts
one time i did dxm and almost puked
laying in the cool dewy grass made me feel better though
i couldn't fathom how beautiful everything was in that moment
(i do not condone the use of drugs)
one time there was a time when i didn't need nicotine or drugs to feel better about myself
i miss that, that time in my life
i'm getting better though
i hope you are too
i hope you get completely naked before a shower and while the water's heating up i hope you look at yourself and touch all of you and i hope you slide your hands down your ribs and hips and think ******* i am one **** fuckable ************
because that's exactly what you are
i don't want this to be a cliche "u r beautiful" thing but i think that's what it's turning into
a cool thing about life is that when you cry your cheeks get stained with black but it always goes back to normal
your skin, that is
a cool thing about you is that you are like your skin
a cool thing about your skin is that it's always changing, always shedding, always growing
what i'm trying to say is that nothing is permanent
that you aren't always gonna be stuck in this **** hole
that you'll always find a way to resurface
that you aren't just a crack in the cement, you're the whole ******* city
haha, i love you you stupid head
a lot of people do
be kind to others because we're all just dumb beautiful walking flesh things
smile at every stranger and love like plants do
i don't care what you say, you are someone's sun
so shut up with all that "i'm worthless no one will ever love me" crap
be a conceded ********
love yourself
disregard rude remarks
basically be like kanye
u do u booboo
keep all of this in mind the next time you're afraid to go out in a certain outfit or to change your hair or to wear lots of makeup or no makeup or eat or any ******** nonsense you wanna do. please just do it. dont be a *****
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
Cocky?
I beg to differ
There is someone out there
that is much better than me
So I don't believe, for one second
that i'm...
Conceded.
A word applied
To the beautiful people without
beautiful minds, embraced
by the ones less intellectually fecund
than they are...
Brazen.
Polished? I am.
Your feelings? Your worries?
******* I disregard not with brashness
But with angelic cause as my own problems
are significantly more...
Tectonic.
Shifting focus from
your meager existence
as my shear presence fills this page
Outraged? You created these proems
when daily topics I...
Eclipsed.
Full moon rising.
The lighthouse to your sinking vessel
I am not the best, but I am the best of
the better of you and your kind, lower-class
no offense, I speak...
Truth.
And the pain it brings
I don't worry about such things
I don't discount, but I do surpass
Their muggle mind with poise and sass
Dare I say I'm not cocky, just...
Confidently better than you.
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 12:29 PM UTC
In a strange mood - see/write art
in a strange way, disorganized but straight on,
light tinted magenta, issuing, in frothy large pours, from my mouth,
knowing what to say, and the meaning too,
I can more than walk, can write, on water,
where all can read weeping, Mary-miracles of seeing, living words,
themselves, on light waves lapping in a
shifting rotunda vision, color reorienting spatial senses.^
in a strange, strange stitch, seasonal spirits and witches,
Chagall, Baez, Dylan Thomas, Donovan, Richie Havens
doing their knitting in my brain, from Montmartre to the Midwest to Monterey,
painters and poets in lockstep head-messing with me,
imperfect clarity but still one voice,
see/write art,
so went and caught the wind, going gently into night
to banish the hodgepodge of uncertainty from inside out.
knowing well you don't understand fully, but jumbling tumbling
verses are sliding off my rusted tongue as fiddlers fly above,
roughened words, hewn from a paper cup, spilling diamonds uncut, imported from Sarajevo, Montparnasse, the Lower East Side.
wretched me, in the hour I first believed, this amalgamated conception conceded,
seceded from my mind into your palate for a tasting,
tho neither drugged, nor deaf and dumb, just slammed poetical-like, this write is
all I have to portend is your affections, your attentions, to yours, am beholden.
a ***** well respected man in daylight,
the hidden references accuse,
woke up to see Wednes-day Caesarian born,
askance glanced at the prior passages of the night before,
when my palate clefted,
when eyes chose not to distinguish
between right and lefted,
in the nightlight,
a ***** man disrespects language convection/convention,
and lays before you activating stanzas and his mind, prone,
but always the truth, speaking,
the visions, leaking, mind to eye,
recombinant, into our minds eye.
^ http://www.guggenheim.org/new-york/exhibitions/on-view/james-turrell
Rather than write extensive notes on the many references, inspirations in this poem, if there is a line that intrigues, ask me
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
Beneath the shadow
of the Great Shepherd's staff,
in the green lushness of Life's plateau,
my spirit continues to laugh.
Despite the dumbness of this sheep
to His voice I've heeded.
For God's Love is greater than deep
and to His Principles, I've conceded.
My life is filled with abundance
beyond mortal imagination.
Enjoying protection from circumstance
came from obeying rules of His Holy Nation.
From displaying a submissive behavior
towards a God most divine,
I'm covered with blessings from my Savior
and reside in green meadows until Eternity's time.
Jul 26, 2012
Jul 26, 2012 at 11:39 AM UTC
Dont come to me with these feelings that you fabricated, dont try and remind me of the times that you made me feel obligated, just dont come close when your feeling lost and conceded because one day I won't be here to take it. I just need time, something you could never give and its been a crime that I let you bite me in the back with teeth like some toothbrush shivs. This is just who I am, these words are the bones that make up a body which emotions flow through like blood, thoughts are the veins that make jet streams shooting out from the end of frayed tips of an amputation gone wrong. With my wounds I bring a flood and like a wolf you were instinctively drawn, the scent of a dying animal brought you close but then you chose to dispose instead of being exposed, you walked away and said sorry but now you come back talking about a decision you loath? Your a wound I was willing to close.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
A broken soul, a slight shake
A piece missing, she would soon take
Become whole again, need and be needed
And to this concept she has conceded
Set on someone as broken as she
And be the very best that she can be
Her heart demands it, her mind commands it,
And together they continue to plea
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 3:36 AM UTC
It's like a habit, done unconsciously
Do we even know, it is reactionary?
This breathing out with varying intensities
Could itself, be a tendency
Says a lot---it could mean anything,
It could mean everything...
Speaking becomes a choice,
To hear, or not to hear one's voice.
There's a sigh of admission
Or agreement...a signal of an ensuing confession,
Rarely comes with a nod or a smile...
We admire with a sigh
Our eyes, a sparkle it could never hide,
We give out a sigh of despair
When hopelessness permeates the air.
From disappointment, we frown
Our shoulders are down,
And when one is anxious, and wait-less
Limbs are so restless
Mind is unruly, followed usually
By a sigh of anxiety.
When heart and mind have conceded
A sigh of surrender has succeeded
When what we see is beyond comprehension
And we.....have run out of options...
When the air is laced with sorrow
We sigh, and then tears follow
Because words refuse to flow
A sigh is all that we can let go.
We sense disrespect
A snort, we usually expect
As things, people, sometimes stray
And we sigh in dismay.
When what we feel we cannot utter
We exhale...it feels so much better
Sometimes, it is gentle...other times, violent
Could be like a shout...or one so fervent...
I ventured...thought of a lot more sighs,
They could fill my page...I could run out of rhymes
So I'm ending this poem with one...prolonged and high
Acknowledging...that a sigh is not just a sigh,
it holds words, actions suppressed, even ****** expressions,
Confusing....at times, giving wrong impressions,
Because...the true reason for the sigh
Is known, only to the one who sighs.
Sally
Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 12:14 AM UTC
Life's Predispositions
In the chapel of his soul
and in the steeple of his mind
votive candles burn,
bright and iridescent,
perpetual,
red, yellow, green
and blue.
He sits in there,
a chapel for one,
in a mist
of confusion,
in a mess,
searching for answers,
as his life is waning,
escaping,
like an Autumn wind
blowing the pages of his life
... stillness,
of bookmarks,
still on page one,
he hatched, once.
All around him,
dark,
and cold,
like a winter chill,
snow banks withdrawing,
his sad existence.
Still he looks up
to Jesus on the cross.
Warmth.
In the chapel of his soul
and in the steeple of his mind
votive candles burn,
large,
bright and iridescent,
perpetual,
another rainbow stretching
it's arcs for him.
He backs away.
He bemoans life,
small,
it's endowments on him.
His parent's mistake
on a dark, eerie
loveless night...
and their cutting words
"You were a mistake,"
words
that grew on him,
like barnacles
clinging to him,
eating away his buoyancy,
like a ship sinking.
In the birth of another spring,
flowers blossoms,
rivers gushing down
mountains and mountains
of pollination,
life,
he has a lone branch
waiting ... somewhere.
Such stillness.
Such stigmatization
from his parents
loveless past.
A mistake they conceded.
It had an effect on him,
darker than the blackest sheep
that he was.
What predispositions.
When the summer harvests
arrive,
fields smiling their wares,
he scowled
he scowled the corn,
subsistence,
life,
the changing seasons,
his short change
of life.
Rainbows.
Why are the birds
singing to me?
Why?
The voices
in his head
chirping,
continuing.
What message thou
bring to an orphan?
Still he looks up
to Jesus on the cross.
Warmth.
His eyes squint.
Dad, mom.
And whispers words
that don't need
to be said,
closure.
Logan Robertson
6/01/17
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 4:16 PM UTC
To mend a broken heart
You have to follow an ignorant soul
To follow that lowly soul
You need patience
Why patience
For ignorance
Why ignorance
Why not
To mend a broken heart
Understand its s fickle and frigid thing
It creeks When it opens
It locks When it closes
It's conceded One way
And submissive in others
To mend a broken heart
Another heart is needed
To mend a broken heart
You have to break your heart in the process
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
Emptiness rings heavy in my chest
Echoing demands are overwhelming
I thought I figured this out already
Settled the storm that rages inside me
I guess it's just one of those things
A problem without a clear ending
A lifelong battle I have with myself
Winning or losing, it's all the same thing
This dark hole is a part of my soul
Not just a stain that washes away
The Void lives and breathes and beckons
It's more than a place that I can escape
I've ran and fought and conceded
Fed it everything it's craved
Nothing could ever be enough for it
It's made of more than empty space
Constucted from trauma and pain
By social lies of what happiness means
It's deeply fueled by insecurity
The Void is built on broken dreams
It won't ever let me feel whole again
So it says I'm just a broken thing
Even though I know that it's lying
I'm still tempted to give it everything
Oct 10, 2023
Oct 10, 2023 at 5:49 PM UTC
I look up at you in a crowded room and notice you're looking at me. You quickly look away and I quickly write off the situation as an accident.
I'm never the right one, why is now any different.
I'll tell myself I don't have a chance.
My heart gets buried in a fake smile and fake laugh.
Play it cool you cool mother ******
Truth is, I need this shot. I take a shot to take a shot at you. A cheap trick.
What is love drunk? Am I love drunk? Is that what love drunk is?
I could get drunk off you...I mean, I'm around you and all of a sudden I feel sick to my stomach, laced with butterflies and the next morning I'll wake up and regret taking too much of you...especially because now you're gone. The thrill from last night is now a love hangover and you are simply last night.
and my expensive taste in fine wine will be the death of me. Only the best will do for this selfish conceded alcoholic. Red wine that matches your red lipstick.
BAC is way too high. I'm drunk off you, your lips to mine.
I can't drive. I'll have to stay tonight.
I'll slur words because I don't know what to say to you.
I miss you when you're not here. My body shakes and shivers and I want you around. I'll lie to myself and say I'm not going to think about you, and I won't text you and I won't tell you how I feel and I'll feel terrible about it and I'll want you around and I'll type out a message explaining everything and I'll just hope and pray my fingers are too cold from winter's crisp air and I hope they slip and accidentally hit the "send" button before I can delete the message...
But that never happens...So I'll take another shot of you and hope I don't get wasted again.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 9:05 PM UTC
Was it easy was it hard
For our friendship to discard
Did you have to was it needed
When our friendship you conceded
Did you smile or did you cry
Ghosting me with no goodbye
Did you laugh or did it hurt
When you left with no alert
Do You wonder do you care
Leaving me beyond repair
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 9:53 AM UTC
Eve the dweeb and I are cool
But you is just a Fool
We are the crown jewel
You is just the crown
But do not frown
We are just in Sun Valley Town
You are a Clown
But don't frown
Apr 22, 2010
Apr 22, 2010 at 7:18 AM UTC
eight years on,
she, airplane borne,
takeoff - a minute from,
texts a parting thot
"love you madly"
you can't recall ever
that prescient précis designation
on any earlier editions
of your other old lovers resumes
this tidbit of reckless abandon
moves fury fast,
direct to the top of the list
madly, manly madness,
when you man,
allow the crossover to occur,
when boundaries twixt honesty and
sensibility
are declared
voided laws
when the white cloth napkin of careful sanity knocked, swept to the floor
maddening love rawest realized
conceded
in madness, completion is indivisible,
indivisible, completion is madness
manly madness
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 4:17 PM UTC
All the true talent is being impeded
Everyone seems to please the conceded
Narsasistic egos,why you gonna feed it?
Offer up your bank,so they can bleed it
Dry
Another sucka
Caught up in a game,your gonna loose **********
Collect up celebrity baggage and check out
Support the underground,fresh rhymes,no doubt
Real lyrisists with non generic beats
Making real music to be played on the streets
Not ******** hype getting sales from the tweets
Get down with real artists and support with your sheets
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 11:53 AM UTC
Am I conceded if I suddenly love myself?
Am I conceded if think I'm beautiful?
Because I do.
I think I'm smart and witty and
so ******* wise.
I'm even starting to like my hair.
Does that make me conceded?
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
She went to Russia as a student
To study fashionable nuclear technology
At the communist Patrice Lumumba University
At the center of ideologue creating city of Moscow,
She went there an accomplished total ******
No African eye had ever seen her naked bossom
She came from the western region of Africa
A girl so couth in all the platforms of life;
In manners, dress and ****** appetite,
With only education as the prime focus of her heart;
To bag a science degree in her African leather wallet
Under her arm pit, sandwiching culture and discipline.
But communist racism turned her into an ape *****
All the tricks of European racism were employed on her,
The young girl lost her seed of self-worthwhile sensibilities,
She conceded that perhaps she was a daughter of zinjanthropus,
In the land of dignified civilisation of the Russian humanity
Where communism struggles to achieve universal Godliness
As ***** blackness strives to achieve universal communism,
In this negative personality feat, my dear daughter goofed,
A poor girl of Africa joined communist *** workers market,
And hence the door was opened to communist loutishness,
Comrades came in arms and went out, to collectivize her love
Making her ****** rights state property, subjected to proletariat dictatorship,
Only to suffer the bane of the time on her complain of woman rights,
She was declared as an African ********** in Moscow,
Suffering from incorrigible explosive African anger,
***** irascibility never seen any where in mother Russia
Only capable to be corrected in Siberian prison .
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 7:55 AM UTC
As I was calling things you that weren't that hurtful such as ******* and dick, I had realized I had used those far too often and had resorted to a plain **** you". I needed a new angle on the aspect of insults within boundaries. While my need to make you feel inferior raged on I look in the thesaurus to find alternatives to the words I have already used. Of course they didn't have ******* or **** with a list of synonyms. So I decided to look at plain "mean", as I was looking at the synynoms nothing really described what I wanted to put in your brain that you already knew. I glanced over at the antynoms and they were "compassionate, kind, nice, noble, sympathetic"
An antynom to mean was sympathic
An antynom to mean is sympathetic
Sym pathetic
Sym. Pathetic.
You are pathetic with your words to show compassion, kindness, niceness, and nobleness to me. ME. You are not a piece of **** or a ********** a deadbeat or a waste of space, immature or childish, selfish or conceded. You in fact lack the ability to be sympathetic towards me, not totally apathetic. But just unsympathetic to **** me the **** off. And you do it so well.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
One day, the body decided to choose, they all wanted a say, win or lose. Never knowing who was boss, had made them all tired, on that day, this is what transpired...
The heart said "I should be in charge, I'm the toughest muscle and my love is large"
Said the feet, "Well, that's not fair. Without me you could go nowhere."
The hands spoke up, "Who helps you eat and drives your auto down the street?"
"Don't you like your balance, and how we help you dance, without us, you'd never stand a chance" said the arms in unison.
"Oh! But I'm not done" entered the heart, singing this tune "I guide you all blindly along, bringing hope and faith, why not sing my song?"
This sorely raised the sphincter's ire... "Without me, all you would expire... I'll constipate and blur the eyes, make you weak within the thighs. Make the brain go comatose, dribble on you feet, yea, that would be gross..."
****** says to all, clear as day* "Excuse me! I have something to say! Without me, you'd all be no more, for I give life, you're all a bore. I'm done with this stupid dispute!"
"Ummm, excuse me love muffin," says the thighs, "But if I didn't open wide, your point would be mute!"
The eyes chimed in, "Look here... Oh, that's right... You cannot see... Who better to guide you along... Without my help, how lost you'd be"
"I have a question." said the brain. "Don't you thin... Oh, wait... Without me you're all nothing. Legs couldn't walk, mouth could not talk, heart wouldn't believe and no one would breathe!"
"I'm your pull toy, your magic **** I make the babies... Yes, I be a ***** said Mr. You Know Who
"I think you smell funny" laughed the nose, "Go cry to your mommy, Boohoo!"
"If you think that smells bad," said miss muffin... "Take a lick on this and then get stuffin!"
"Don't forget about me! I can hear, I'm important too, I'm your ear!"
"Well, I'm more important, I let you all breathe" said the lungs.
"Without me you couldn't speak!" said the mouth, sticking out his tongue.
Said the sphincter, "I've told you all so... Without me working you'd be slow, you'd grow weak and cease to function and I'll close up with no compunction...." The other vital organs heard and then conceded without a word and then came the extremities who had no choice but to agree.
***Now you know, this little story goes, you don't need to be a brain to be boss, just an *******
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
Good evening to all, I shall be your host
So won't you all raise your glass's please
A tribute like this, requires a proper toast
So take this one moment in time and freeze
For on this eve we shall honor all the ghosts
Who have epiphanied us all to our knees
So no matter who you may love the most
Let the collective works remind us to seize
The day, started out different, I'm not a morning person by any means
But this morning I awoke, with clear thoughts and vivid dream scenes
It was as if my body was merely a vessel
and my mind was possessed
But instead of my soul fighting to wrestle
It conceded, for I was blessed
A voice spoke to me for all of humanity
And warned that the words that I will channel
May have people questioning my sanity
Convicted by a psychoanalytic jury and panel
I was sound asleep when a voice awoke me from my bed
A whisper "Listen closely to me", the first ghost softly said
"There is absolutely no reason to sleep, after you are dead
So please share the words that I place in your head" he pled
Young man, rest is assured, allow me set the presage
After words are procured and you send my message
You will slumber so peacefully knowing these deeds
Shall contribute to billions of thought provoking seeds"
I said "let me sleep on it", for it was a very long day that I had endured
But I must admit, the concept of immortality absolutely had me lured
He said, "Just remember words are meaningless once you leave earth
Goodnight sir, and by the way, my name is William, for what it's worth
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 1:33 AM UTC
His Grandpa writes poetry in the tub.
(See the banner photo, please)
His Grandpa writes poetry in the tub,
Clearly a skill and ability
that has been passed
to the next generation.
For who could conceive successfully
Of writing something so exquisitely
Joyful as his smile,
A poem par excellence!
I am sure it is but a matter of
Days and weeks,
After the newbie begins to post
His œuvres écrites,
Here on HP,
That the debate will commence
Who is the better poet sweet?
No worries.
My conceit has already conceded.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 3:38 AM UTC