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Pleasing self, easing myself, kindling rhythm, fumbling mayhem, I am musing and fusing and refusing, I sleep all day and work all night, refuse to sleep, weep and walk, when I am growing fat, my pants hung up on the wall as if someday I will be slim again and I can wear them out... I get bored, I get shit scared, Afraid I might say something, I am passionate about living, But more often I am loathing, Looking for work, but with a compulsion, Pleasing & easing, Making my life.... the story of my life |
I like it , I think it has a nice ring to it. This is a good write. and I am flatered that you were inspired to write a poem. No, Mother nature did her thing on the other side of the James River. I, myself was doing my laundry watching the News as it happened. I wanted to be some where else, with someone else, doing something else. as wishful thinking go's. but thanks for asking. The Poor Man's Poet. | Posted on 2008-05-01 00:00:00 | by Bobby K | [ Reply to This ] | |