bolt the parlor door and draw the blinds,
Let polished patrons sip sour wine.
Out here, raw and stubborn weather finds
jagged truth they never could refine.
-
Author:
pontefract (
Offline) - Published: July 5th, 2026 06:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments1
Clever rhyme tells a tale of a place of state uninhabited by political correctness or polite society. Well done
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.