The END!

I have no rhythm

My muse has deserted me,
My reverie is but a vestige,
It once was a place of creation.
My niche is of ancient Egyptian architecture,
Haunted and spooky,
The strings of my harp are but loose,
The pianist is intoxicated,
I am but just living,
I have no rhythm.

Poetry by Advice
Read 334 times
Written on 2011-08-25 at 18:19

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France England
After a night of sincere prayer you held the likeness of me beyond grace. What was will always be, fear not it's only a writer's passage to adventure held up in traffic. Lies telling lies only to be ignored; songs written anew while pleged to the turtle under its shell. To simply live takes courage when everyone else is in celebration of three wishes plus four. You have a sense of direction which is greater than the Foxtrot followed by the Waltz. Great in every sense of the written word. You express so pastel.

Stan Cooper
It most certainly ain't the end
You've got lots to say and you say it all well


jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
yes you do.

Hans Bump
Coy and intense. I really liked it and will read it again because I think this is one that will age well and keep satisfying.