An Impatience Of One Patient

Toss away productions,
Of those sagas that you sob.
And needless seduction,
That reeks of deceit.
To leave an impatience,
Of one patient.
But losing the sensation.

Don't fiddle with my tweedle dee dee.
Then gong your performance when the end comes along.
Don't fiddle with my tweedle dee dee,
Then gong.
And don't pluck on pity too strong too long.

by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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