Hnugover5

Bastard sun has burnt my book
And burnt me to a crisp.
Every word, every cranny, every nook
Now all I do is list.

List
List
List
List what might have been.

List
List
List
List what I wish I’d seen.

No longer shall I work with words today
Since you obviously despise them,
So every time I gather my marks
I’ll be sure
To do
No more
Than chastise them.

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