Friday, July 08, 2016

Bored to death



If I were to write a poem
It certainly would not be now,
For I lack the courage of brilliance and know how.

You say who am I to judge
Abilities so vain,
Given the quirk of time there is no one to blame.

For human kind doth seek us all
One and each of us,
We kneel before our lot, then the dust.




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