To be unbegotten is really rotten,
rotten to the core.

To be got what you've got for naught,
is a wonderfully terrible way to score.

Nevermore, nevermore, no, no, and no,
no way to be, no, nevermore.

For what you've got for getting,
remembering or forgetting.

Forgetting to remember once more,
what you wrote last night the night before.

As you went in the come out door,
betting it all on one pot to score.

And now you are unbegotten,
without a pot to piss in anymore.

And if you understand a word of this,
you're a better man than me, you see.

For I have found that to confound,
is far a better poem be.

You agree?

Question Marks

Image Courtesy ValientCrossFit.com

I came down with a strange illness
yesterday which accounts for this bit of nonsense.

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Copyright 2013 © Ronald W. Hull


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