I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
Look at everything I have accumulated Without any taste
By D. J. Reddall11 months ago in Poets
The world bulges with petty avarice Reason seems not to understand itself Villains and thieves are seen as glamorous Books of wisdom sit idle on the shelf
My favorite part You won't believe me, I'm sure It is your pleasure
Never mistake me for an object I am legible, and I can read
Who will ever paint The secret of the patience Of a cat, watching?
I am biting my Tongue throughout the lecture, but They still take offense
Oh, how we yearn for The amusing, attractive Powerful falsehoods
Can you see your mind? Can your mind always see you? Which one will prevail?
By D. J. Reddall12 months ago in Poets
Cooperation Knows nothing of win or loss It names all work ours
I'm so busy, so tired, so confused; My comfort animal was poached by Tim My cunning nemesis, never refused You cannot allow me to lose to him
You could have become One more, insipid cliche Your strangeness is right
You were clearly skeptical about me Contemporary villains share my face I'm not the lecherous scoundrel; you'll see Time has eaten what I once had of grace
