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Bullocks and Pullets
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For Another Time. There be many who come in hope of fame,
There be many that slip for fun,
A place to walk the works of years,
For many it is still done.
I thank those that have come before,
I accept those already left,
I shall not be stupid enough to ignore,
The pecking order bulling dross off shelf.
Lo' I can see the cheapness in some seats,
Of sloppy hand-bagging psychos,
And the types that so fussy said to eat,
But kindness of the order sought laughs at in-imbibed typos.
And it be a life of said just is,
In what I see before,
A place of truth and dusted,
Now cobwebs fill the floor.
Though not sad I am,
Nor particularly sour nor had,
Nuff of the words spoke gloss glad,
But 'tis simply the result of words that come in can.
Ricardo. E (c) 2012
