That familar ring,
poeming almost anything.
Some things hurt,
words pickingly flirt.
Challenge in mind,
some might not deem kind,
they'll close a eye blind.
Monkey wrench flying,
many get to frying.
Don't poem much life,
get close to misery and strife.
Seem like advice,
might as well roll the dice.
Snake eyes peeping,
sure enough creeping.
You's wrong for doing,
should left in wind blowing.
Might be about you,
not tainting eyes hue,
what's a poet to do?
G
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Love Tinka