My Bill of WritesA Poem by Ted KniffenOnce againMy Bill of Writes
You have the right to remain silent as you wait for your Muse to appear like a stain as you’re paying your dues.
You can declare I know my writes; but you have not sung the blues in smoky clubs on chilly nights until you’ve gathered all the clues
left carelessly scattered about, fallen from the minds of blessed friends late in the evening when they flout the bartender’s rule that never mends
the write you have for seeking counsel appointed you by this secret court who’ll scream to the judge with broken tonsils Your Honour he claims the right to abort
this misbegotten unwanted pain that has plagued him since his Time began, but now he says he will refrain putting pen to paper in another rhyme.
© 2018 Ted KniffenFeatured Review
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4 Reviews Added on September 9, 2018 Last Updated on September 9, 2018 Author
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