The Rhyme
Neither time nor wit shall outlive this rhyme
Of a bent twist in my prime
But you might watch with the silence of a mime
And marvel at the glittering slime
Falling off a fractured life as sour as lime.
My foul choice navigated me into a rough clime
So mean like a bad tale at teatime ,
Holding on to the inner senses, as sticky as birdlime
Beleaguered, unable to think in half a time
Ambling in no direction, lying in wait as an enzyme .
Being a tyrant to myself maybe disregarded as a thyme
But never will you see me walk off without leaving you a dime
For you will forever remember me in a lifetime
As a strange lonely wanderer with a RHYME.
Copyright © Majesty Etsey | Year Posted 2017
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