Here is a poem that occurred to me this morning as I awoke from a dream. I don't recall the dream, as I usually do not, but I assume someone was annoying me with whining in it given the content of the verse I woke up with today.
I’m tired of whiny people
No matter how many there be;
It doesn’t matter if one or two
A half a dozen or quite a slew;
It doesn’t matter if there’s only three
Their whining does not interest me.
I inherited this same chalkboard-scratching hatred from my mother. I'm sure it was my brother she was always upset at...
ReplyDeleteThis is perfect. It was probably some form of divine dream, but maybe less divine madness and more divine iritated-ness.
ReplyDelete- Tom
Great poem, From. Love your rhyme and stanza development.
ReplyDeleteYes, I know, my creative writing nerd is showing. 0>;~}
Grim, not From.
Delete*sigh*
Auto-correct interference after specifically spelling it out is one of my biggest pet peeves.
Yeah, it drives me crazy too. I swear it's trying to convince the world that I'm illiterate.
ReplyDeleteI swear it's trying to convince the world that I'm illiterate.
DeleteMaybe that's a matter of perspective. In The Winston Affair, the murder case defendant, whose lawyer defended him with a plea of insanity, loudly insisted in court that he was the only one who was sane--it was everyone else who was crazy.
Eric Hines