When The Rye Gets Dry Poem by Edgar Eslit

When The Rye Gets Dry



Get ready!
“Victory has many fathers,
but defeat remains an orphan”.
There’s the line of whine twang
when an ecstatic bell bangs
loudly on the sphere of life
that reciprocate the founding site
where once of a pedestal of charm
you sprung in rhyming prism
but now of burbling junk
consolably fruitless a trunk
Once you flunk

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