Poetry of a Lazy Novelist

Missing Miss May, as April closes

Vibrant doses of postponed notions

to plan my attack

 

Oceans of backed-up black ink

held back from the brink

by distracted drinker

 

The tailor, the tinker

doer and thinker in the blink of an eye

realises finally why it is high time

he tried flying in a different sky

 

Each day goes by

shows signs of do or die

and a propensity to cyclical rhyme

 

Well not this time

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