Short doesn’t mean it took little time to make it means it takes little time to read.
Life may seem fine,
when drunk on wine,
But never again in the morning.
Fieldwork a profession sadly missed,
by many who think their job is piss,
many who see advancement as harm,
And few who actually grew up on a farm.
Wisdom is grown as brains do shrink,
replacing our thoughts with blots of ink,
but what did we know when writing them down,
young and foolish the thoughts of a clown.
Along with the foolish rest the wise,
only one caused the other’s demise.
Summer sun and winter rain,
living life in this domain,
people elsewhere speak of snow,
while still sheltered they do know,
Cold is death and warmth is life,
all while sheltered we protest,
water life and sand is death,
still while sheltered we converse,
distant parts of living earth.
The longer I write the more chance for failure,
writing more increases skill,
what is new comes from this failure,
we need not practice a perfect skill.
Rhyming is an easy pattern,
one performed with lose of grace,
a crutch I use because I need it.
It crossed my mind,
how to replace,
how to replace it.
cheating lists with two in one,
if you do not understand this,
I forgive you.
two in one was not enough,
here’s a third, a pompous tone.
Here’s a fourth now you should groan.
I forgot the point of this one,
so I’m stretching the meaning of poetry,
in order to conclude this.
Empathy is a beautiful gift,
allows expressions not experienced,
outside view not lacking in charm,
oft misapplied a great cause of harm.
Beauty I mimic,
grammar I harm,
I see myself as full of charm,
what I do know outweighs what I don’t,
until I think and so I won’t.