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A poem to make you curse
This poem is better than anything Keats ever wrote. But that's about it.
I know...
Yeah, it sucks. It was kinda my first (and last) foray into the realm of poetry, and I was trying to put words to an experience I had, but, like a lot of writers here, my stories/articles are pretty well received, and my poetry sucks balls. I really wish I could delete it, lol, but it is what it is.
If by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd...
The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the girls are faint with the hot sun,
And hide 'neath some cooling shade, a voice will run
From hedge to town about the new-shaved maid.
Keats eh! Keep writing S&S.
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