Many use more words
to complain about a mess
than there is dust in the pan
after you've swept it all up.
Mary complained about the mess all day
She lectured so long I wrote an essay
She waited so long to address
Every day she said it's something she should address
She used far more words than
Dirt in the dustpan
Mary mumbles many words about
her living room landfill, except
Than
Than ends dust in the pan
After it's been swept
Maybe she's allergic
To the fairy dust
Or maybe she's demiurgic
When making a fuss
Maybe she is allergic
To fairy dust
Or serotoninergic
To make a fuss
Maybe she is deadly allergic
To fairy dust
Or maybe it's serotoninergic
To make a fuss
They claim they've tried everything and more, A drop of real rain is all it takes to remind you of reality
Many use more words
to complain about a mess
than there is dust in the pan
after you’ve swept it all up.
Maybe they’re complaining
about fairy dust.
Or maybe just making up
a reason to fuss
They claim they’ve tried everything and more, A drop of real rain is all it takes to remind you of reality
Here’s a lost poem I recently found. Though I plan on coming back and finishing poem, I wanted to persevere this particular draft that I happened to stumble upon. There’s something something öDDLY compelling to me that I want to make sure doesn’t get lost with my meddling.
I have no memory of writing this whatsoever. Though it’s not uncommon for me to stop midway while writing a poem and just leave it in my drafts to be forgotten. Since I do all of my writing on wordpress, that’s the only copy – meaning they’re easily buried deep in my drafts that never get posted. Only by chance do I ever find them – such as this case.
A fun aspect of coming across old poems is seeing how much your writing style has changed. As well as seeing if you can finish match the style to finish it. I almost feel like an archeologist going through the tomb of my previous selfs and seeing different eras of self-exploration.
♡Sugar☆World☮ 