Monday, July 7, 2014


You like to think that you are good with words
That you’ll find the ones that will solve it all
But emotions make them scatter like birds
Leaving you silent as a broken doll
Right now I can’t even find a good rhyme
To make the poems that fulfill my dreams
I’m so old that I’m running out of time
And this sonnet sounds like belches and screams
At least boredom has motivated me
To try and strangle my dusty daydreams
I am not the she nor are you the he
So no more romance, I will write elsewise
And leave younger broads to praise the cute guys
SBR 7.7.14

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