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Rated: E · Poetry · Contest Entry · #2261996
Writer's Cramp entry 211115
I'm an old man, my mind's a blank,
My brain's dangerously unfit,
I no longer hold decent rank,
I provide no one benefit.

As weeds will choke the weaker rose,
I'm an old man, my mind's a blank,
My heartbeat drops and rhythm slows,
I can't remember who to thank.

My dad chose the way of the spank,
I bare ochre scars of his wrath,
I'm an old man, my mind's a blank,
On a twist in my earthly path.

At sixty-six you'd think I'd know,
But let me be perfectly frank,
I fear it's time for me to go,
I'm an old man, my mind's a blank.



16 Lines

"This form is called a quatern. The first line is repeated as the second line in the second stanza, the third line of the third and final line of the fourth. Each line must have eight syllables."

 
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