I pray that I may never be,
A strobe light poet, as some I see
Relentless stanzas that have no end,
Let me say, it shows my friend
No depth of meaning,
Emotions are rare,
When put all together,
Only one poem is there
Six thousand, ten thousand,
Is never enough,
All after ten,
Is the same old stuff
I throw myself in,
This lot of disdain
All after ten,
Was about me and my pain
Auctioneer poet, slow down your pace,
No one is bidding today
When words drip as honey,
We throw down our money
In all of you ranting,
You have nothing to say
Leave a Reply