Saturday 29 January 2022

The knot as I blot my paper

Naught, Nought, Not

Many a thought climbs upon a thought,
For which most a duel is frequently fought,
Even if what you desire to write is fraught,
It is a situation in which we all get caught.

Should there be way to escape and be taught,
Then maybe one might soon be on a yacht,
Yet my order of words travelled and bought,
Just as what would get read is highly wrought.

Would mean do the script much as I ought,
That to this very line we can truly be brought,
Where by now the end to a diatribe is sought,
Before a critical review begets an onslaught.

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