I tire of my own stories.
having repeated them so often,
refining them
with better words and phrases,
adjectives and
metaphors.
embellishing too much,
stretching to the limit
the elastic truth.
a new adventure might be nice.
a new
disaster or tale
to be told,
a love gone wrong,
a job from hell, something
to tell,
and fool the boredom
out of this life.
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1 comment:
I like the elasticity of truth.........
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