RAINE REFLECTIONS

 

Papier-mâché

 
I have a paper shield
And a steed made out of clay
I can joust with indecisions
Or with pen, I can parlay
I am brave and oh, so noble
Until my ink drains all away
When I’m left with nothing, naked
I have so little left to say
Parchment armour impenitent
Papier-mâché soldier, I guess you’d say
It is time to tilt at windmills
So many giants left to slay


© Christopher Raine

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