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Literature Text
As I deep and ever deeper delve
Comes six, comes eight, comes ten, comes midnight
Comes fright of facing slipp'ry wit
Of empty space 'tween pen and racing thought
Fear of all; worse: fear of naught
Yet bravery, too, and spite
And on race thought and night
And hours shrink and grow once more
Comes one and two and three and morning...
Comes six, comes eight, comes ten, comes midnight
Comes fright of facing slipp'ry wit
Of empty space 'tween pen and racing thought
Fear of all; worse: fear of naught
Yet bravery, too, and spite
And on race thought and night
And hours shrink and grow once more
Comes one and two and three and morning...
Spent all night debating on facebook, trying to poke holes into the others' arguments, and finally composed this little ten-minute-poem to sum up the experience
© 2014 - 2024 FireflyAlpha
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