One more soul crushing bleak grey morning.
Ah, but there are perks to poetry.
A flick of imagination and I am gone
to a warm country, green, with beaches
and castles and four poster beds
in one of which I am just now
waking wrapped around a lovely lass
to a day of azure skies and heat.
In some ways, poetry doesn't pay well,
but in others, it can make you rich indeed.
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