Day In Day Out
Day in day out I plot my dream from words
Insensitive instruments that like old swords
May cut the heart from a tongue as with pen
And yet with this I measure lines of men
Silly thoughts naked of vest and imagination
Carrying loads of zest to the altar of frustration
Who brag in syllables that will not decompose
Another of the world's unbearable woes
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
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