I filled my mind with smoke,
And when i realised that i had been broke,
I couldn't afford to read a can of coke,
Days came and passed i still wasn't woke.
This isn't a joke,
My pen this morning had a stroke,
Right after this book gave it a choke,
Now this middle page too is a moke.
Dear pen before i begin to soak,
At least allow me to write provoke,
An empty page is not one to envoke,
Lets not leave it blank, feed it some oak.
©listen
L