My Loss
The hours slipped away today
And then before I knew it,
It got too late to go outside;
I guess I really blew it.
The benches by the river
Didn’t have my butt to warm them.
The ferries and the pigeons
Had nobody to inform them.
Of course, I wasn’t missed at all;
The loss was mine completely,
For when I’m sitting riverside,
I write my poems discreetly.
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