Me, slight bite, after three nights of a wee hike;
My knees, tight, for a breeze bright; a sea’s dight for meek
might. Sky goes from blue 2 white. But still, dark. No
light. Strive 4 height. My eye, in fight. I’ll die, no slight.
My dedication, set in station, a vet’s ovation. Sprint
till my heart pops, won’t let the phase wine. Dictionary
miss a nary. Me, complete in my street’s sleet. Underdog,
another blog. Paper’s pate, my late slate into a wobbly
plate. Live my life rhymed, in ideal time. Write the
right way for my sight’s hey; reborn in a tight May. Extract
my tact. How will I adapt, if I’m on another form of map.
Must be a trap. Lower flaps, for sake of flight, scribe another
collection, make my night, forsake my fight, ate my light,
retake my right; my anthem in bantam; censors, plant them
in ransom; olympian, slow dizzy when too much merlot’s in
my row; slow tow when my glow’s woe’d. A known hone,
to thrown throne.