Mad Ad Poem by John Sensele

Mad Ad



Unless I see sense, I'd reap double
Blues and queues of zeroes
Stashed to rouse rows of rabble
That let down two trusted heroes.

Unless I fly, I'd go astray
Today and tomorrow
And fail to return the tray
Of clues of blues to the first row.

Unless chance smiles back at me
Once more, pain would creep on
My bed to feed a sea
Where sadness would chew a bone.

Unless blessings visit my life
Soon, the moon would croon a sad
Song a million times for a wife
Gone too clean to buy a mad ad.

Monday, May 23, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poems
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John Sensele

John Sensele

Ndola, Zambia
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