Wednesday, November 11, 2009

ode [against] a wall

You'd think a slab of granite would be
Just a neutral chap--

A simple set of holes and holds
To kindly guide one up.

But, truth be told, this one fine slab
Is not so kind as that.

No, he is out to thwart brave souls
Who aim to, him, summit.

And thus is was that, yesterday,
I fumed--e'en cursed--a bit,

While battling this ornery rock,
Trying not to throw a fit.

For we assumed t'would be an easy,
Leisurely day's sport,

When in fact this slab was concealing
His tricky, slippery side.

Therefore it was with great delight--
Nay, more with childish glee,

That finally I won the war,
Standing tall, on top of he.

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