Monday, August 15, 2011
To wake in dreams does cost my pocket still,
My silly job does train a thought from me,
A yellow man has come to make me ill,
This enemy is one academy.
To ask is too demanding of my soul,
I see a man in one of those kennels,
Just sentence my demand in some control!
I still do find the clumsy arrivals.
Let dreams be gone! Let days be done for us!
The aches shall vanish forming one demand,
Adeptness carries out accurateness,
Those apt to steal the race are acting bland.
My mighty hand still makes me shudder out,
The face of this demand is without doubt.