Saturday, 22 August 2015

Original Sin

A deep sleep at night is an eyelid in flight
Such is the terror to infringe copyright
Darkness allows a pushed pen to surmise
As dawning at sunup may well plague your eyes

A search high and low for original flow
For the new and unusual phrase apropos
But a fear of the smear of not being first
Left staring despairing at words interspersed

Attempts at expressions seem less convoluted
As hid when presented with essence diluted
When creating your novel be aware of Sod’s Law
By dispersing reversing things not heard before

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