Day 9 of NaPoWriMo.
My poem
Quickly concocted couplets.
At a snail's pace
At a snail's pace, I gently move along Leaving trails of slime with every step Looking for a place, where I can belong The shell I carry with me hurts my neck
Featured poem
A classic by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
Don't Drink
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Don't drink, boys, don't! There is nothing of happiness, pleasure, or cheer, In brandy, in whiskey, in rum, ale, or beer. If they cheer you when drunk, you are certain to pay In headaches and crossness the following day. Don't drink, boys, don't! Boys, let it alone! Turn your back on your deadliest enemy — Drink ! An assassin disguised; nor for one moment think, As some rashly say, that true women admire The man who can boast that he's playing with fire. Boys, let it alone! No, boys, don't drink! If the habit's begun, stop now! stop to-day! Ere the spirit of thirst leads you on and away Into vice, shame, and drunkenness. This is the goal, Where the spirit of thrirst leads the slave of the bowl. No, boys, don't drink! Boys, touch not, nor taste! Don't think you can stop at the social "First Glass." Too many have boasted that power, alas! And found they were slaves to this seeming good friend, And have grown into drunkards and knaves, in the end. Boys, touch not, nor taste! Don't drink, boys, Don't! If loafers and idlers scoff, never heed: True men and true women will wish you "God-speed." There is nothing of purity, pleasure, or cheer To be gotten from whiskey, wine, brandy, or beer. Don't drink, boys, Don't!