Too Late For Rhyme Poem by maya crisol

a weary voice across the line
feels like shattering glass
flying off and piercing fast
right across a gutless spine

a crumpled piece of dirty sheet
crammed full of striked out lines
in the garbage can it goes! oh sweet
right where there's no need for rhymes

a bitterpill was fearlessly swallowed
a wry smile from a pith now hallowed
tired eyes suddenly begins to weep
perfect words whispered in her sleep.