When life is good, my poetry gets bad.
Its frequency is at an all time low,
And verses formed just serve to make me mad.
When life is good, my poetry gets bad.
Shall I reclaim the writing joy I had?
I may prefer this bliss o’er words’ slow flow…
When life is good, my poetry gets bad.
Its frequency is at an all time low,
When Life Is Good
defying atrophy 
Nevertheless I like your poetry:
For other verses I’ll wait patiently.
😄
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