A Game Of Crap Poem by Doris Cornago
A Game Of Crap
Fruits hang heavily on branches
Harvest honed humanoid cloned
Humans away on translocation
Bats bicker for the brunch
Gallivanting goalkeepers
Gone to the world cup
Lost the return map
Such game of crap
Dillydally drab
Willy Wally
Tin-man
Alley
Hero
Harrow
Falter on
Minimockery
Daily drudgery
Run the gauntlet
Wield worn weapon
Sole searching soon
Grab grimy gargantuan
Scorch snow-white beast
In the mist, grumble grist
Monsters on target practice
Frazzled fray on limited play
Sallow-faced hero gone incognito
Amazingly structured thought provoking poem on gambling is shared. This is very cleverly penned...10
Yes, my dear Kumarmani. We have lost our world to games, gambling and make-believe computer games. :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 9:48:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Well, that's a poem! Commercialism and the hunting for victory and the first place only, devour any sense of honour or fair play.Anything for the win!
Used your quote on my Facebook wall to accompany the poem. Attributed it properly. Thank you. :)
I'd rather have a man who honestly toils the soil than a man who kiss-butts for glory and acceptance. Sadly, this is our current hero cult.: C