The Last Thought Poem by skillz thapoet

much than the less i talk,

much than the less i see,

a jab for the rib,

a shade for the eye,

yet none much has ever brought it up,



it never was for the pennies,

nor for the few cents that dangled around,

it was never for the beauty,

nor the free falling hair that adorned her pretty head,

yet as i see,

and as the thoughts tell,

much in the heart had told a tale,



merry merry be me,

a lie i sang all alone,

for beauty and the priest had much in common,

as the beast in a fairy never read to i,

not every winged creature is an angel,

i think i learnt,



so was the last thought,

i put it down like i remember,

a loving heart,

same as a boiling pot,

much do share,



@skillz