This is about a poem that's kills itself to spite me. It's word fall of the page and its lost forever

Its Out of order poem
All the insults you keep throwing
I saw the sign but You crossed a line the one you should be towing  
tho waters  smooth but no canoe  will move unless you keep on rowing
All said and done the battle won ahead forthwith I go it
I glance a look at scribbles book no rhyme  or verse a sudden curse my chosen word was never heard poetry   Now blighted
 
 
my soul laid bare word war declared
My seed I sowed where I disclose
Im Alan Turin in code breaker mode
Why is a  simple reason
For some there is no way to please em.
The final line refined so fine
And end that ended an end so humble
My words upon I stumble
Adrift and all a jumble
You are out of order poem
No warning of u going
The Burden over flowing
Knowing of the not knowing
the direction that you flow in
uve left nothing i can show em
You were so really out of order poem

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Scribble
over 5 years

Thankyou kindly sir ;)

Mr Moonlight
over 5 years

It's like a lovely fat scrunchy jazz chord this poem. Sets my mind to reread again and again for patterns. Nice.

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