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 251 times
Written on 2011-08-25 at 18:19

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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.