A.E. Rivenbark Poet Rhyme

My Last Poem

My last poem fell victim to Chrono’s  dastardly warps

I dragged the depths of my memory pool,  came up with a shriveled corpse.

I beat my breast and wailed like a woman plucked from the Middle Ages..

You can’t scribe without paying your wages

So I present this wine to the sages

Alas! For I have filled my book with blank pages!

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