Download Report Date: Mar 28, 2008, 13:43:01 Category: Literature -> Poetry -> Humor/Satire Stars: 1 Favourites: 5 Tools used: leeches, fleam, scarificator Time taken: not really long enough Views: 26 (Full: 5)

Description:
what's there to say? - I'm working on something better all right

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This poem doesn’t understand
itself, or what it’s meant to be.
Like words, in lands where books are banned,
and crowds will browse through libraries
whose shelves are empty, full of air
it doesn’t have a sense of where
it’s going to, or why it’s there -
This poem penned by your fair hand.

This poem couldn’t comprehend
at all the rhyme or reason why
the sounds rebound at each line’s end,
and wouldn’t even think to try.
Its lines meander, as lost lambs
would wander, guileless, through waste lands
of squandered spondee, bland iambs -
This poem your fair hand has penned.

This poem, now it’s reached a third
dishevelled verse on shambling feet,
this ragged caravan of words
declares its rambling near complete.
And though it can’t remember how
it got here, where it’s going now,
my dear, to truth, you'll never bow -
You’ll start another, undeterred.