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'Look here, what tributes wounded fancies sent me'

Piece out our Imperfections with your thoughts.

From: Andrew Charles
Date: 22/02/00
Time: 23:54:03


Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts,

For 'tis a noble sin to want, of sorts,

A flash with Bard-like verse and muse that's fraught

With moans and heart-felt cries of woe. I know

'Tis long time since I graced a stage with verse.

Indeed, I sometimes feel forever cursed

To utter lowly wit and banter free

Within that dark horse, Lo! It's T.I.E.

For 'ere a found this lynch rope round my neck,

My future path, thought I, was strong and clear.

A slight de-tour, say Yes! Then move away.

If only I had known how long I'd stay

In clap-clap land. Or Land of Rhymes - Forsooth!

I've even played a black decaying tooth.

Oh! London Shakespeare Workout - Hear my call,

For I am sure to loose my where-with-all

If I do not speak soon a Bard verse, free

Of 'Acting Space' with squashed school dinner pea.

Yes, Theatre (School Based) - My Dark Horse. So stray

Me please from this ne'er ending Bridle-way!

From: Mark Denham
Date: 06/01/00
Time: 23:23:34


Look here, what wounded tributes fancies sent me:

Wounded fancies did make her knickers twist.

She was told to get lost. She lost the gist.

Still, tossed me her fair tributes on a plate.

'Twas unrequited love where lust meets hate.

Last changed: February 22, 2000