Once upon a midnight dreary,
How I pondered, weak and weary,
if only I could write poems clearly
with Photoshop
I love so dearly.
Such brilliant sloth
of gim did gumble,
gire and gabe
ignite my fumble,
in besmish prose
to the tapping, rappng,
tapping
of the raven
at my door
and nevermore
And so embarked
upon this journey,
knowing well it would end
in misery,
to the tapping, tapping,
rapping
of the raven
at my door,
forevermore
Rage rage rage against.
the dying of the night!
Rage rage
in these words
that give me fright!
For I shall not
go gently into the that night
knowing the
poems that I could write
and so this
highway man keeps riding
writing
and the Jaberwok keeps fighting
biting
while this poem is... lying
.....dying
Beause Photoshop for poems
works only
-for- rhyming,
......Sometime (ing)
.....so - I'm crying
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem