Doggerel and rhyme
Do I have time
To parse all I've been told
For that nugget of gold
That calls out my foes
As gardeners with hoes?
---||---
Brit-born, forlorn on an island of scorn.
America-bound, with a life to be found
In sunshine and friends
Where Florida ends.
---||---
Reserved & distorted
Like a life that's contorted
By politeness and fears
That melt over years
Living and growing
Then knowing.
