Times
Someday, my times will fall,
but not at this hall.
People will wander and be filled with cheer,
While I sit and wonder, what will the next day make me hear?
People sometimes think about eternity,
While other people sit as a fraternity.
I may be a grave or brave poet,
Maybe not, I can grow it.
I wonder how I can improve,
To be a good poet I can prove.
Times make us go curious,
Sometimes even furious.
I can try to become a good poet, possibly brave
Maybe I can do it like a swish wave.
I can learn fast, sometimes slow,
But when I learn, whoa!
Go splish splash,
Learning is really hard and gives me a rash.
Everybody learns differently, simple or hard,
Maybe its only one yard.
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