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Posted

The green grass grows whenever I may roam.

Nary a complaint as I relax at home.

I do not care what says the church of Rome.

For I am in the zone with Mister Strome.

 

No longer here as I drink a beer without fear.

My friend sits back and reveals a single tear.

I do not care for I am no longer here.

I will not get behind the wheel and steer.

  • 3 months later...
Posted

This is a fun little piece, Tim!

 

I particularly like the alliteration in the first line. It seems to be a poem that is fundamentally about finding one's peace in the world.

 

Quite enjoyable, thanks :)

Kevin

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