SCRIBING MY TALE

She will never be satisfied.

That’s the way it is written,
In some great leather bound book
Scribed in crimson ink and golden leafs.

My scribe is a cruel man;
Laughing at my pain,
Giving me strength,
Taking it away,
Cheering when I fail,
And crying when I prevail.

How easily I seem to fall…

As heroines often do,

Just before they realize,
That one day they’ll make it through.

You ask:

"Any good?"

I say:

VERY good!

Your use of italics is very effective here, by the way; it is like another voice, and on the page it is what we call in German "Augenmusik," eye-music.

Your poems show wisdom and leadership, Manders Flanders; you were born to be the "leader of the pack."

Well done, as always, and ever better.

Love,

+Stevie

"leader if the pack" I sang that song in a talent show one year! Thank you for you props Stevie I really did think this one was a little odd, but it's good to know that is was odd but in a good way. Does that make sense? I wish I could write like this every day, but alas I can only when inspiration strikes.