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Order of the verse,

out of the prose.

By Oliver MPublished 2 months ago 1 min read

The beat had no rythm, while the feet got defeated.

The sense of the end did not get punished,

thus the order of the pentameter knicked that iambic meter.

What note that music know and the song of "no"

did got confirmed and verified to the point of pointless "yes".

At what point of this verse kept my purse flowing with abundance of

pennies to the dime itself,

while a nickel loosed a quarter of quatrains of quiver.

Meanwhile that beat of the song can not compete with the famous

line of those feet,

such melody of the wind to the air meet.

artslam poetryvintageperformance poetry

About the Creator

Oliver M

Poetry is my past, the future rolls for no one. I'd rather have her exorcise my past and to entertain as life goes by in this chaotic world.

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