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Corrupt
The waste that grows each day I'm here
Time and money lost to fear
A sickly servant, not fit to serve
Telling now what he deserves
The waste that grows each day I'm here
Time and money lost to fear
A sickly servant, not fit to serve
Telling now what he deserves
Nice
I really enjoyed this poem, and also how it was short but direct and very powerful.
Yeay thanks
Yeay thanks
That sounds horrible, but
That sounds horrible, but it's a good poem.
.....
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "