King of My Castle
Byron and Shelley have nothing on me
Even Wordsworth is jealous, I hear
Keats and Coleridge, they move me not
Their imagery so drab and so drear
In my room at my desk
I am King of my Castle
Now all that remains is
to pen poems that dazzle
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2024
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment