Sunday, July 13, 2008

Versa, It's Vice

Copyright 2008

the words are my puppets
i jerk ‘em around
they stand at attention
or lie flat on the ground

my pen is a bullwhip
to lash lazy ones
i brook not one sluggard
keep ‘em under the gun

but as I close watch
the words as they dance
and laugh and sing smartly
of fate and romance

there seems a small problem
befuddled i see
to my consternation
the real puppet’s me

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