Awful Rhyming Scheme
Learn more about other poetry terms
The dictionary has many words for love
But not what I’m accused of
I’m a mopperist, exposing myself
To blind people in the park
Or when it starts to get dark
I jingle my junk in their face
I was the first,
the first of 8 kids.
I want to sell the rest off.
So start sending in the bids.
Of brothers, I have 4. Of sisters, only 3.
But sometimes I think my mum regrets,
Poetry is my emotional dialectit combats my autocratic intellectblessed with irrefutable honestyit contributes to my allometry
I’ve been living on this island for as long as I can remember.
My arms span out like anchor, untethered
My body this boat to swing across the sandy sea.
He, a prophecy, projected in the miles of spillage
