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by remy Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Other · Other · #1624409
A brief poem I have been working on.
And there I sat in a lonely room
My thoughts progressed till I was doomed
Unlikely was the talk that noon
That brought me here inside this gloom.

I rather thought I hid it well,
The silence that had made its spell,
Upon my thoughts, with brooding tell.

They sat and talked of dreams and such,
The listeners held in lively hush,
And when asked to tell my tall so much,
I replied; I have none.

They gasped and held such deep a breath,
That I though one would hold till death,
But fortune would not permit as such,
For one without a story.

So I told some tale of make believe,
Of pirates on the take you see,
These folks would take the word of bees’
If they could tell a tale.

And so I did with such ado
That all the guests including you
Quelled the music and listened to;
My tale of woe.

I told of truths long past their age,
A simpler time when life had scent of sage.
Their smoke filled pipes had ceased to plume,
And darkness filled the room.




© Copyright 2009 remy (act0370 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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