Never Discuss A Desire To Expand One’s Vocabulary With A Maternal Figure When Poor…

Fate, ye tempting mountebank,

Whether spurious or not,

Can prove to be, to our free will,

A specious asymptote.

Atropos, supercilious,

Cuts our time; We must defer.

My mom paid me a dollar

To write this poem, so blame her.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

Leave a comment