Not my Type

 

Finding something that wasn’t lost

trash and salad both get tossed

Before the winter comes the frost

yes this rhymes, but at what cost?

 

My status as a writer shrinks

when things I write begin to stink

When viewing all the things I think

there’s one thing left -

the kitchen sink.

 

 

 

                                       zc

It's not that I intend to write things like this
but when I take my mind out of gear
it tends to idle at gibberish speed.