BAD EYES
God I hate my sightEspecially in the light
It's blurry when I write
It's horrible when it's bright
I prefer the darkness of night
When the world has gone quiet
The fire's of my soul doth ignite
Inflaming my mind I have to write
I write out of love not out of spite
The poem inside gives me delight
To share with others it's only right
I think I've finished my poem; I've
only one thing more to say, Goodnight.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2024-06-16 at 00:02
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