my rhymes are commoner's tales
flaw by the wish of crafting yale
witness a soaring bird at night
ask her of the lies today told
prod her till she unleash her bowl
of scene when only feeble tears
dawned as the morning dews
make his promising cortex
like a rivulet, how she has flow
into his garment of hideous fur
and let the razor keen its marks.
If your pen droops mucus as mine
steal my words: steal my senseless
mumble my iota of thoughtless
amidst your thoughtfulness
i won't bother nor fonder: go on;
cos i only jargon today for days after earth.