A time of told
so long ago
No more too cold
in this row
The heart is aches
the mind is weak
Until it breaks
it makes you bleak
So cut the cord
to my control
I am so bored
and on a roll
Writing stops
it makes me sick
Never tops
the pen it clicks
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Nice poem. short and sweet. saying so such withought saying much at all.
ReplyDeletexxGuardianAngelxx