Unshackle My Verse
Doing Time for the Rhyme
I sat upon a park bench
With a journal on my lap
Writing out a limerick
That I dreamed up in a nap
An officer came strolling by
He glanced down at my book
His hand moved to his holster
As in fear he clearly shook
Now stop right there
He boldly said eraser in his hand
Put down that pen and step away
He shouted in command
What unlawful words are these
He glared with bushy eyes
It's just a little limerick sir
I said in great surprise
You can't express yourself like that
This is a public park
You should not even do those things
When hiding in the dark
You cannot write out words like that
They're dangerous, words can kill
You must have a license
To possess that kind of skill
I do not have a license sir
To him I meekly said
I'm simply trying to work out
The thoughts within my head
You unrepentant criminal
I'll see that you do time
A thousand days in jail
And you'll give up this life of rhyme
March 29, 2017
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