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Dying To Win All the Time

Eyeing every trophy is a sin, Always craving it a prickly pin; A critic right to raise a din: “A propensity fit for our Dust Bin!” For those who often seek to win Force our hands to support either chin And our skin pricks with a pin … An obsession I won’t excuse my kin, As doing so quite a kin To eating from a rusted tin Or relishing a non-nourishing fin. Order I shall such a kin To pay with an apologizing gin; Dying to win all the time, sin.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Book: Shattered Sighs