Out

Out of time and rhyme; 

and zero sign 

of any kindness.

But kindness never was

your game.

And so my name’ll besmirch 

all hurt,

as little’s left for sensible return;

and meanwhile,

all the while,

and all the wiles 

are gone, re any song 

we might have sung.

And here I am;

and here is out.

And famous shall I be for nowt.

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