Frills to Buy a Fortune

I can’t find a ferret to gore the lies off
To trouble the muse is to peril the ruse

The hide’s a scare beneath a lad low
The jack’s drool can drill and find a crow care a throw

Off the root and border routing the mood
It’s a booted blue that drivels the truth

How fond I find the lac to wind to thread the spill
And the feat that features a fiddle playing in between

A puddle treating a puzzle to fizzle out in a guzzle
The strata strait of stream, staking the steam

A figure breaking a boast to deburden frost off foe
In all likeliness, to trouble the teeth to bow

It’s a scarred screw that drives a broken mouth
The leverage is a pound worth. Wait. Not in compound.


© Prateek Joshi and WordPress, 2017-2018

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