sinking, sinking, sinking

Oh and here is the juncture where we stray.
Next comes severance for the drift
is by law required to cut
the line that is licorice frail
and no matter how loud the beacon cries
the gumption necessary to get to it
has, thanks to untrustworthy rudders,
allowed the mad flail of oars to sap,
to dwindle all to dribbles, and besides,
there is a dragon whose breath is minty

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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