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Cloud 9

A Poem

By Mother CombsPublished about a month ago 1 min read

Everything is falling inline

As if by heavenly design

Interference divine

In this life of mine

I’m taking it as a sign

That it’s my time to shine

I won’t be confined

My soul has been refined

I’ll drink my wine

As I dine

I don’t care how much you whine

You can be such a swine

About you, nothing is benign

So, I have to decline

That we combine

And redesign

I have a spine

I won’t pine

I’ll just lay here supine

And recline

On Cloud Nine

slam poetryProseinspirationalFor Funfact or fiction

About the Creator

Mother Combs

Come near, sit a spell, and listen to tales of old as I sit and rock by my fire. I'll serve you some cocoa and cookies as I tell you of the time long gone by when your Greats-greats once lived.

Admin = ViM


Mike Judey Dharr Grz

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Comments (8)

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  • Amber Bristowabout a month ago

    Great piece!

  • Kenny Pennabout a month ago

    Whoooo this one was great, M.C.! Felt like there was music behind it

  • Shirley Belkabout a month ago

    great rhythm

  • Dharrsheena Raja Segarranabout a month ago

    Hehehehehehe the swine was my favourite part! Loved your poem!

  • Esala Gunathilakeabout a month ago

    Wonderful. That's it!

  • Hannah Mooreabout a month ago

    Enjoy the moment!

  • Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a month ago

    Love this 🌹🌹🌹🌹

  • Alex H Mittelman about a month ago

    What a wonderful poem!

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