Quatrain of My Arm Stuck
Syrup
My arm, stuck to the tabletop,
from the syrup dropped
onto the
table,
My mind, propped up on the
surface with no sticky
thought to
enable.
Should I make a fuss, even
though its my fault,
and have it
removed?
Or should I leave it alone, let
the next patron be stuck
until the site is
improved?
Yorktown Disciple
Syrup
My arm, stuck to the tabletop,
from the syrup dropped
onto the
table,
My mind, propped up on the
surface with no sticky
thought to
enable.
Should I make a fuss, even
though its my fault,
and have it
removed?
Or should I leave it alone, let
the next patron be stuck
until the site is
improved?
Yorktown Disciple
Order # 10990
Should
I
make
a
fuss?
I
make
a
fuss?
Yorktown Disciple
Poetizing around the world
Poetizing around the world
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All rights reserved
All rights reserved
Quatrain of My Arm Stuck - 10990 - Yorktown Disciple
Poem Sanctum