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Ruchiccio I Poem
What is emotional stew, you ask
Describing that is in itself a task
It's a motley mix of chunks and bits
In a pot of feelings where everything fits
Sometimes the batter will taste so sweet
When joy and relief make up the meat
The stew can be peppered with many a spice
Like anger, frustration, and stubborn rice
Or a salty blend with sauce of tears
When sadness combines with multiple fears
The results may yield just one small fault
If you add boredom and apathy without any salt
The coals beneath are stoked to perfection
After dumping in your emotional selection
The stew will boil as the feelings grow
Just mind the mixture, don't let it overflow!
Copyright © Ruchiccio I | Year Posted 2011
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Ruchiccio I Poem
Can't tolerate jokes about poo?
Or a pun that revolves round the loo?
Call me gross, immature!
You'll just learn to endure--
With my muck you will have to make doo.
Copyright © Ruchiccio I | Year Posted 2011
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Ruchiccio I Poem
The clock is showing three AM,
The middle of the night.
I'm halfway through the darkness
And the almost-morning light.
It's a very eerie spot in time
When all the world's asleep.
Emotions, thoughts and brain-waves
Start to run a little deep.
This nighttime feeling is so real
My psyche is fully charged.
Everything that passes mind
Is sharpened and enlarged.
I'm motivated, driven
Feel alertness in the mind.
I'm ready to explore new turf
To see what I can find.
I safely say that in the past
I got to delving far,
Especially on nights I've seen
The last remaining star.
I can't give up this special hour
Just to get some rest.
Why, that would be too dreadful
Wasting time that is the best.
You also can experience
The magic of this hour.
Stay up until the clock strikes three
And then you'll feel its power.
Copyright © Ruchiccio I | Year Posted 2011
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