release the word and no one will attend
out on the seas none counts a single swell
few hear one stroke of just a little bell
and very few on just one word depend
those few who one day will praise and commend
at other times have but few things to tell
nothing to say and not one thing to sell
you call and they don't seem to comprehend
what's in the fog we do not have to seek
it comes to us and grabs us by the throat
that is the rule by which the monster lives
avoid the strong and prey upon the weak
eat all the sheep and leave aside the goat
know just who takes and ignore he who gives
Odd ravings, comments, and other wastes of time. Some are in plain prose, yet others are in rhyme.
23 February 2008
so what
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