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A Tired Poet's Dream (A rewite from Forgewrights Room)
January 26, 2012
12:03 am
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The Forgewright sailed uncharted seas,

Moving south by tropic Breeze

 Hardy men set upon their quest

 To find The Bounty’s treasure chest

A figure climbed from down below,

 Their commander, one eyed Captain Crow

Upon this write the men got sick

The authors arse they tried to kick

Its hell out here you imbecile

You writing smells like rotted swill

These crashing waves will end us all

By the way, what’s a shopping mall?

They held the rail and threw a hook

Climbed on ropes, out of a my book

On killing me, their intentions did seem

Exotic foods have caused this dream

I am a man with one distinguishing manner. I view life as a nonstop roll by circus. Whatever my senses signal to my brain, it is received as humor.

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