Dog goD 8Hate
I have to step into another
mode....lest prosaic effort's feared
commode reason's reproach to piteous
states of rueful need and...I bleed.
Fate has not been kind to this blood clot:
man of amicable cause, me, recompensing a curse
in his vein's vanity of red rife to dispense
in a moment's caustic design as they fling
mammoth amounts of dissenting notions...
Something must be done if I can't render the
moments in hopeful portions of spewing craft,
some tidy oracular-piece of heaven for both
my pleasure and their conviction to...reality.
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Comments about this poem (Oracular Piece by Dog goD 8Hate )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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