Twelve left to go to Bliss, <br />the magic number as proclaimed <br />one thousand, some are bad, <br />and some do please me very much, <br />who cares if others like them, <br />I did not write them (probably) , <br />for them, but for myself, as an analysis, <br />to fix the mind without a shrink. <br /> <br />I try (I do, Scout's honour) to be kind <br />just like Uriah who is really too much, <br />I would shake hands with him whenever, <br />and what time, it is a vacuum that he, <br />-no doubt about it- fills with oxygen, <br />thus to restore the world to what it's been <br />so many centuries and with its own projection <br />for a sweet future not encumbered by today.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poems-8/
