Rosaline stops by for a comment
fiction
edward w pritchard
Cruel men who would us a bed,
duty of offsprings fullfilled more than once
then write odes to another
14 or 40 we all the same
a slip of a leg
and a rose is deflowered, well maybe if not first then
replaced in name only
by a crow who
thinks his poetry immortal so her to be
though thou poetry
stinks since first was hatched
and his ancient technique stumbles if upright if at all
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