Poetic Vice <br /> <br />Scribble, dribble, wriggle, wretch <br />there he sits upon his bench <br />a maudlin man with mournful sighs <br />seeing himself through other's eyes. <br /> <br />He's not so green as you might think... <br />soused and seasoned with poetic ink. <br />scribble, dribble, drunk that pen <br />with wine and thoughts that will not end. <br /> <br />He calls upon his poetic muse <br />a substance he does oft' abuse. <br />Add some spirits or some ale. <br />He does spin a raucous tale. <br /> <br />Off again with pen in hand, <br />leader of his one man band, <br />writing down his liquid speech <br />in pursuit of what he cannot reach <br /> <br />©2008 Dawn Slanker<br /><br />Dawn Slanker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poetic-vice/
