Preaching To Myself
Full is the quiver when sharp is the spear
Be downcast in slivers, take a huge slice of cheer
Starve a harsh tongue; it withers the ear
Mourn with a river of tears
Shiver with joy and not fear
The man who delivers, lives in the clear
Good scriveners scribe in multiple spheres
Be a forgiver of those in arrears
Protect the liver from too many beers
Always give praise to the Giver of years
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
