The poisoned penA Poem by Cherrie PalmerJust mess'n aroundI can't take my eyes from the quill. That barbed instrument of guilt. Patently I wait for the sun, with hope its venom will wilt. A breeze tickles its plume, and I long to rage in its truth. I've placed it just out of reach. And find, a good nights rest will renew my will.
© 2019 Cherrie Palmer
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7 Reviews Added on August 5, 2019 Last Updated on August 10, 2019 AuthorCherrie PalmerSpringfield , MOAboutI am a published poet and love poetry. After a lifetime of country living, I'm making a move back to town. I find my surroundings a great inspiration to me. I also have two books on Amazon Kindle: .. more..Writing
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