Once upon a mid-day sunny, I was penning lines for money,
Nonsense lines to get me noticed at the time I was obscure.
None were rhyming nor were matching, "Ceiling paved the floors with thatching,"
Egg of chaos I was hatching, hatching as not done before.
"Such an egg as this," I muttered, "never has been hatched before."
And then I heard a demon roar.
Ah, so clearly reminiscing, I recall I heard a hissing,
Down my leg and past my shoe now ran the wetness to the floor.
Greatly shaken nearly falling, felt as though my heart were stalling,
I thought f or sure that Death was calling, calling at my kitchen door.
I thought the feared eternal Footman had at last come to my door.
A prospect which we all abhor.
Through the door the noise invaded, past the paint forever faded,
By the shine of countless candles lit to light my nightly chore.
On my sorrow I was nursing as I stood there then rehearsing,
All the years that I'd spent cursing, cursing like a vulgar boar,
Cursing all the things in life that I could liken to a boar.
My face reflected off the floor.
From my foot I pulled the stocking, on the door there was a knocking, read more »
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