‘Rhyme Doin’ Time’
A column for people to express their concerns via the pen!

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I came to gaol ‘cause done the wrong,
Was drinkin’ whiskey ’n smokin’ bongs.
When corner came I did not see,
The turning road, just like a vee.
At speed it rolled to grinding stop,
Atop my head, my glasses not.
Now sit in cell of nought to read,
The glasses gone! Of what I need!
I ask the system, to provide,
For that, my sight be magnified.
I need a choice for me to pick,
But only 4’s will do the trick!
But alas at Woodford, ain’t no claims,
For only 2’s are in the frames.
Maybe time! They’ll see our plight,
To give me 4’s and then my sight.
I came to gaol ‘cause done the wrong,
Was drinkin’ whiskey ’n smokin’ bongs.
When corner came I did not see,
The turning road, just like a vee.
At speed it rolled to grinding stop,
Atop my head, my glasses not.
Now sit in cell of nought to read,
The glasses gone! Of what I need!
I ask the system, to provide,
For that, my sight be magnified.
I need a choice for me to pick,
But only 4’s will do the trick!
But alas at Woodford, ain’t no claims,
For only 2’s are in the frames.
Maybe time! They’ll see our plight,
To give me 4’s and then my sight.
There’s irony, hypocrisy, fallacy, a vast ocean of distance to cross. The “saint”, the “sinner”, it’s lunacy, that the ignorant could save the lost.
I’m not belle of the ball, not the very least, but we have something in common, I’m in love with a beast. But the beast is not a person but a drug that I call meth, I’ve been talking to myself for hours, I’m running out of breath.
Our team was blown away by this beautiful painting.