The Had
No more the curse of what is bad,
enduring cause, or so-so sad
I am the circle of the mad,
disciple of implore . . . the Had!
This venture, trusted counterfeit
the soul's combustion ~ make it fit,
alas, alack, the sum of it,
I am rescheduled ~ my work's bit!
Oh labor lost, the onion's pit
has much more flavor ~ keep, not spit
approve, thy own concern with grit,
a self conferring, truth not skit!
No cause demurring can restrict,
this thought occuring ~ I've had it!
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