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A beacon in the storm
When push comes to shove
You feel so forlorn.
Running blindly in circles
For answers you seek
Listening to your elders
And the words they speak.
Just forge your own meanings
Don’t live in denial
Nothing is significant
So lay back and smile.
> I have this feeling that Black Glove will go on to achieve great
> things.
I feel I was too aloof with my reaction to your generous words. In truth, I'm a person who doubts himself at every turn. You have encouraged me greatly, as has every one on here who has ever said that they like what I write. Reading and posting stories in this forum has made me believe that my writing isn't as pointless as I thought it was 6 months ago. Thanks.
Mr Glove, can I encourage you to enter some competitions?
I don't even know why. I simply like it.
> mikelar wrote:
> thats what you get for writting a cack poem
>
> It aint cack you weenerboy... You try writing a poem with meaning
> that rhymes huh?
No, no it was cack.
-Blush of the Clodhopper-
I stomp my boots in a muddy plesh - lip-laughing mad.
The bearded sage in the crooked tower said EVERY PATH HAS A PUDDLE, and he is wise.
I believe him.
Bounding over root and twig is good for the heart.
Exploring nooks and crannies is good for the eyes.
Hopping over hedges is like crunching into a stolen apple.
lOOk
-the orchard is over there; let's sprint to its eaves.
I've got a spotted hankerchief tied to a stick.
I've got a crust of bread and a fresh tomato.
Once I had a glinting gem and enticed a hunchback through the orchard.
But it was a ruse.
I led the clod on a merry-dance.
lOOk
-the windmill is over there; let's sprint to its wooden sails.
Pant
Pant
Why are my chops ruddier than yours?
> thats what you get for writting a cack poem
It aint cack you weenerboy... You try writing a poem with meaning that rhymes huh?
Nice one Kyle, Early read..