Type A Poem by Hope Hills

Type A



Why does your vice
Drive you to wince
And concave so?
Are you not able to
Restrain yourself so?

Or do you so not know
How?
Nor want to, perhaps?
Oh, it's typical you say-
So it must fit
Must it?
I just don't know

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success