Wednesday 23 January 2013

My empty boasts

My empty boasts only served to show the bloat that had entered my speech and bluster,
An arrogance totally without pleasance that infected my body and made me fester.
A rock unto my block was required to relieve me this sense of importance,
A jolt from a bolt alternatively to rewire this backward form of acceptance.

And so squeezed between a rock and a hard place,
With pride dented and short, quick fall from grace,
I started anew after a look in the mirror,
And carried on with me now the sirrah.


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