Bandolero ( inspiration in a poem)
Bandolero, my acquaintance, you rob my sanist thought,
Your eccentricities, do persist, and by your traps, I'm caught.
On placid waters, at evening time, I row the quieter lock,
But you, do reflect, never respect, or to ever watch the clock.
Wildly disconnected, as you ramble, never may I predict,
Just when you meander, toss a loop, or perhaps to conflict.
Highly disoriented, sometimes dazed, dreaming once again,
I can never catch a single break, on deciding where to begin.
Visions from other worlds, assorted, and all to seem insane,
Beguiling pictures in my mind, on my purest thoughts to rain.
No end to your endeavors, or your incessant bloops to attack,
Never finalized, my quotations, or in my finest print to be exact.
My Imagining, you seem a bane, a curse in sheep's fine clothing,
As many a time I'd like to give in, or perhaps, that I'm so loathing.
Alas, I cannot give you up, for it's in you that I find my expression,
It hurts me much to tell of such, and in this, my own confession.
Yes, tongue, you've beaten me still, please stay within my mouth,
Even though everything you show, hopping north, you're going south.
I'll admit, without a fit, not in communication, but to harvest my dinner,
You croak and always dart about, but you're accuracy is a winner
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