When my ink dims his poetic flash
Your heart burns so you dub it a trash
If you arm your tongue eager to me lash
Calm down! I’ll soon fine-tune this trash.
When I imbue my verses with a modern splash;
Sometimes, the tone may be arid and harsh
Your mind may revolt and ready to crash
Calm down! I’ll soon fine-tune this trash.
You may lack penny and be in need of cash
While I weave not just to make much cash
Your interest and mine differ; so they clash
Calm down! I’ll fine-tune this trash.
When I web words, which the truth splash
If it’s not your interest, you may term it a trash
Being mad you’d want to wipe out the rash
Or arm your tongue ready to me bash
Calm down! I’ll soon fine-tune this trash.
Year:
2018
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