For all of his life only one thing mattered:
the words that formed when ink was splattered
he had no money, no car, no wife
only one thing mattered for all of his life
without remorse he scribbled on,
each page an altar prayed upon
he felt no need to know the source
and scribbled on without remorse.
His sentence done, the story through
the final chapter must ensue
he had his chance but didn't run
the story through, his sentence done.
2 comments:
Telling rhyme
😁
Post a Comment