Thursday Rhyme

RebirthShande6

Imagine,
The wishful think
Of Mr, Prime
Who got rejected
Every-time
Of a place where
He could act “divine”
Yet, lost himself,
in a town,
Where damsels whined,
While widows drank wine,
Imagine,
Pulling off cartoons
On prime time
Licking iced cones
While tastebuds yearned for a drunken dine
Imagine,
donning a costume
And that too,
On Valentines’
Imagine,
Me, writing this nonsensical
Post,
With nothing else on my mind’
And that to all out of rhyme
Should I name it “thyme?”
Yet, thank you,🙏🏿
For your lost time.
As insensible grudges
And the masquerade
Kept me hooked
With rage and untapped reserves
To Mr Trine,
What’s his name again?
Mr Prime?
Who cares,
I guess,
Now,
I am being overtime
Yet,
I didn’t write murder
For,
Mr whatever,
And that’s still
one of my crimes!
Now surely,
I have lost it,
Out of sync,
Absolutely, out of line.

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