Replying to a comment on:

Failure (Free verse) by Nicholas Jones

I have the reverse Midas complex; everything I touch turns to - what, exactly? I don't even know that. The opposite of gold, base metal, rotting excrement, filth of whatever type. I can do nothing right, I turn nuggets of beauty in the mud into convulsions of despair.

J.B. Manning 9-Sep-03/10:01 AM
There is no "Perfect Record," in time. Only or recollection of it. Write on, my friend. You have talent.




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001