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Sunday, January 12, 2014

I Hate Rhyming

All I do all day is throw raps and rhymes together.
My worries are weightless, and light as a feather.
So I spent the hours of my hourglass tryin be better.
When I had a bad day.
This is what I say.
Grab your palms, have a moment of zen.
Now your calm, so you pick up the pen.
Write a tune.
Real soon.
About a balloon, goon, koon or the moon.
Systematically its a simplification.
An aristocratically overstepped generalization.
But democratically we've found your patience.
Started low.
Now there you go!
What masterpiece comes next...?
I want to see the rest!
Every artist!
Works their hardest!
To see themselves known!
To see their art shown!
Oh my advice may make you groan, and moan and moan. 
But when your famous, you'll ring me on the telephone!
And your apologies may well atone.
For the success that I have sown!
It isn't right! It isn't right! Dreadfully long days drag to the night!
Oh no! Your almost out of fight!
You've lost your bark, and you've lost your bite!
And your spark! Its almost out of light.   
But a writer will write...and write...and write and go and go and go.
That's the only truth the poets knows.