To be honest I cannot find
A momentary word that rhymes
To plug the leak in my poem
Long enough to sail her home
And so I bail and toil and sweat
As her nails come loose from wet
And her bow turns towards the ground
To where ever unborn poems are bound
still I can’t help but feel regret
after all this pain
I will forget
her name,
and let her slip into the brine
to be forgotten for all time.
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