On a Line
Long I struggled on the line,
Willing to trade freedom for flesh,
And for hours I knew no rest,
Though it was wasted time,
Long I struggled against the line.
Long I struggled to the murk
From the shimmer and the shake
That the surface brilliant wakes,
The waking that pleasant hurts,
Long I struggled toward the murk.
Long I struggled in the sun
When my scales left the surf,
Though it was a pleasant wharf,
I missed the solace of the runs,
Long I struggled in the sun.
Long I struggled in her hands
Around my middle, soft yet firm,
I cursed her and her curséd worm,
Despite her and her plans,
Long I struggled in her hands.
Long I struggled with the thoughts
As she tossed me back to stream;
What is it that she’d seen
That brought all that time to naught,
Long I struggled with the thoughts.
this would make for good lyrics
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This is either the best fishing poem ever, or the most real love story ever.
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may i? please? put it into a melody? i can already hear it. i can already feel where the guitar slaps and the twinkly grace notes of a piano would come in. or have you already done this?
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