Poetry

Under highly undesireable duress, I am requested by another poster who shall remain unamed (it was PecosGeorge)...a new topic for the poets amongst us to irrigate their thoughts. I request that the admins (in their hypothetical state of wisdom), devise a discourse referendum as a vehicle for the more or less (as the case may be)prose-be talent.

You're were supposed to reject it as having no value to the forum. Ya' just can't trust anybody anymore.

A thousand wars my soul hath fought,
and from these wars my sword was wraught,
T'was the truth my soul had sought.The thousand wars begin again,
my soul grows tired within the din,
my soul will slumber in the end.A thousand wars my soul has lost,
a new tear melts the winters frost,
my sword, my soul, a pipers cost.I stab my heart with the sword of ilk,
it bleeds my soul red on pure white silk.The truth my soul had never found,
runs blood red upon the ground.
Allen

Rhymenometry is too hard...modern poets don't even attempt it...they just give up and call it "Avante Guarde Poetry".

I already got my laureate aclaim...Jenni said "WOW Dad!"