A Brainly Matter Of Dis Repair. Poem by Michael Gale
A Brainly Matter Of Dis Repair.
Ideas are draining all too well, out of reach from my far reaching, always searching brain...
This pain is caused by this great strain on my very own fast moving
soul train (of the imagination) .
Twas not long ago that mine own brainal power was all so like being magic...
Alas-! , how, well tragic.
Hmm...Do you smell that, God awful smell? ...
Is that a brain damaging tale?
It smells even worse than anything else, that is so sickenly stale...
Brain damaged brainial shrinkage of the sickest kind.
What a total waste of a marvelouse mind? ...
You and i, can still hear those gears of mine, continuelly burn and grind.
but i smell nothing! ...michael...this poem is great...your next poem must be nasty...announcing its arrival with smell first...i should check it out! ! ! ...love...nalini
Your brain is magical, as is your imagination and your talent for encapsulating it. t x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 8:06:17 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Mr. Gale, I believe my brain has experienced this exact draining during my short tenured (yet increasingly lengthy) life. Beautiful Poem... I believe we share the same poetic techniques. Three Cheers!