Some Sunday morning musings on clichés – but rather than writing some self-indulgent quasi-essay thing, I’ve written a poem instead.
And for those who don’t have images enabled, or would like to savour the words without the spiffing picture, here is the text:
Home is where the heart is but I thought that was the chest cavity
Falling head over heels like a mocking, comedic tragedy
The writing is on the wall that’s called graffiti you vandal
Only time will tell talking clock defamation scandal
She’s reading between the lines it’s white space, I’m at a loss
And they all lived happily ever after until they died of course
Our most memorable clichés they’re easy to get worked up about
Many thanks to Ron Reiring, for the spiffing image, “The Loneliest Highway in the World“, which is shared as part of the Creative Commons license.
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