I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
A new term begins Will it differ from others? History harms hope
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Poets
Ambition renders all friendships fragile Banquo was my name, while yet I drew breath Cut down by a traitorous blade was I
I am a richly blessed and lucky man Bathsheba gladdens every seeing eye And she is mine alone; our love began When she favored me with a smile most sly
Four minds are at work in this charming scene: Boss, secretary, laborer, artist The last is so clear as to be unseen
Awkward, verbose nerd Who would rather laugh than weep Seeks same—no red hats
No mystery here He is just a con artist You have all been had
Shed your loneliness My rapt gaze is upon you Together, we shine
I am grateful for what you have taught me This bitter lesson in sublimation Sweetens when the beautiful breve I see: Your smile, which could conquer a whole nation
Experience shows That the small betrayals are Inevitable
I ought to run him through, this callow twit! Ogling Juna as he would a ham Or a plague victim specked with sores and shit
Savor the waiting The impatient are foolish Time reveals beauty
When education Becomes customer service Rigor vanishes
