The Wordsmith Creates Another Poem
I can't be trusted.
I fashion words, build meanings,
tell involved big lies
and keep and lay tracks
as if predator and prey
both have come this way.
Sometimes, like a wag
might, I tell on me as if
confessing all sins
but no, just stories
around the campfire
with me the least likely to
complain about it,
how shaming it all is,
when you learn how flatulent
I really can be.
November 16, 2013 8:04 AM
I was feeling bad, and thought maybe you here can cheer me up. This cracks me up:) thanks x
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