Boredom
The quail dashed from the bushes
Like abrupt thoughts from the brain
And the afternoon with an age of hours
Was suddenly old with years
I tried to expel a song I don't like
But the damned thing wouldn't come out
Deep in the vinyl of the sky's gramophone
The stylus was blocked
And knocked and knocked and knocked...
Copyright © Betim Muco | Year Posted 2010
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