Three hundred cans of soup

In three hundred, I pulled without fear,
From my dentition, a grin quite sincere
Clichés serve as my balm,
In the chaos, my psalms
Yet to some; I might seem quite unclear,

With words throbbing back in my head,
I ponder the things that I've said
Did commentation run dry,
As I reached for the sky?
Or am I just tangled in dread?

The gallery, it holds all my grace,
While some think I'm lost in the space
But in laughter and rhyme,
I still bide my time,
In this curious, chaotic embrace!

poetrypoetsriddlelimerick

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Paige Hind

November 17, 2024 at 8:31 AM

Interesting- we're glad to have you here and your unique voice. This flowed so well, A.S. <3

Anonomus Scorpio

November 17, 2024 at 9:08 AM

I am very glad to have this medium in my life. There is so much talented expression to be found here. In every corner of this kettle there's a wonderful ingredient. I figured for my three hundredth poem (on the site). I would try a form that I've never done before. While trying to make a little fun of myself in the process, hopefully the humor comes through. Thank you for the consistent support Paige! Much Love A.S.