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Useless
Like a bagel with no hole
Like a flag without a pole
Like a singer with no soul
Like a furnace with no coal
Like a gangster with no moll
Like a quest without a goal
Like a bell that cannot toll
Like a super with no bowl
Like a yacht without a keel
Like a car without a wheel
Like a con without the spiel
Like a thief who cannot steal
Like a key that will not turn
Like a log that will not burn
Like a boss who isn’t stern
Like a skill you cannot learn
It’s a pen that leaves no mark
It’s a dog that cannot bark
It’s a silence in a lark
It’s the padlock at the park
It’s a great big open space
Like there’s nothing any place
It’s an ass in a horse race
It’s the blankness on my face
It’s the words I wish to write
That refuse to see the light
And I worry that my plight
Is because I’m not that bright
It’s the words unthought, unsaid
It’s a veil that can’t be shed
It’s the blackness in my head
It’s my muse…
I think she’s dead.
Copyright ©
Terry Flood
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