He's locked inside a tiny room
his cubicle of gloom
deciding: should he laugh at doom
or sow his dreams to bloom?
The skirmish in his mind is brief
and not without some grief
but then he's bolstered by belief
and starts another leaf.
Are You Reading Me?
3 comments:
I'm tastin' a bit of thee Irish in this one, Bob. Good work.
sew the dreams..
and start digging a tunnel with a spoon.
haha
Thanks Richard, there is a wee bit o Irish in me blood ; )
Hey Brian, I just keep digging : D
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