Gord

2014-10-28 12:00 am

A million stars align to begin nothing,
Can truly the best begin insulting?
A test of love becomes benign offspring.
A gentle hand caresses a face softly,
Yet with the other casts aside a spade.
Cannot the hands of god be unloving?
Those wish for pain receive cavalcade,
Thinking prayer for cake, not for absolving.
Best rhymes touted as insults,
Trying to be what they aren't: wise.
True rhymes timeless be, no beauty sulks.
No man plays games to receive a prize.

Cannot you write of greater things?
Or still is life consumed with frings?