a study toward sonnet #1,366 by FisherKingKQJ
Maybe I ought to strike out on my own
As my poor Magus surely knows it all
Or somehow feels obliged to lilt highflown,
In talking large he squashes me down small.
Although he's mostly lost in thoughts unknown,
The zero population growth dire pall
Allows him luxury of his self clone,
Infertile myself, I could boldly bawl.
In eerie peace beneath surf waves that pound
Lie treasure troves, all types of wrecks;
This astrolabe, that traverse board I found
Embossed with detritus in punctured decks.
The Magus wants a museum, hails the hoard
Of artefacts that taxpayers can't afford.
(Chorus)
o $10,000,000 hoard
o $10,000,000 cache
o $10,000,000 stockpile
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]
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