To the Clever
Here is the roses for your bed
You only get them when your dead
You wanted chimes so you yanked some chains
Yet you couldn’t handle the noises it brang
Remember though the noise subsides
By showing off just what you hide
Their nothing like a final christening
To muffle the ears of all the listening
And my favorite part of this regretful game
Is to admit your good, just as I the same
Copyright © Lorraine Peterson | Year Posted 2020
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