Friday, June 11, 2010

4 stanzas 2 rhyme schemes and nothing else

If you truly wish
You can not exist
And take the life from your wrists
Dearly noted, and unmissed

Another infliction
From the prior competition
My better is my worse
At best and rehearsed

You may grow old
While your pockets bloom mold
And sooth your anxiety
With emotional variety

There will never be a winner
Only grudges and a sinner
And a pact to turn better
By writing a lovely letter

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