Alliteration abomination | Teen Ink

Alliteration abomination

April 12, 2014
By crayonsoup GOLD, Omaha, Nebraska
crayonsoup GOLD, Omaha, Nebraska
10 articles 13 photos 0 comments

You see, keeping a tame, tormented, tyranny
Atop a thousand thick thins,
Makes for a magical muscle of muse and a slight salty grin.

And that slight salty grin will make a mighty meal for men
When the right girl agrees to the beautifully broken Ben.

Though Ben is blind out of his mind
he ceases not to see
the natural lack of love,
and the natural back of beauty

He finds a fair maiden
For more than he could keep
Cause all along his hounds
Had no interest to sleep

Though these pups played and barked
And delayed the down draft of
Sing song-y larks,
Broken ben wanted nothing but
Have wings to wheel his soul, cuffed

With wings abound
He could catch his hearts hound
Who still needs a space
Aplace the perfect paint race

And with those vast vulturous veins
Broken ben still remains as
The hound who hits home enough
To hunker down his fluffy stuffed ruff

To bark a lark to lay and listen
To broken ben he has been missing
And as long as ally aligns the patterns polite,
She too will tinker time tonight.

Behold the morning misty mints
The dew drops on petals' perfect prints
For there is one in a zillion, million
Marks of fatality, she no longer
Longs for broken ben's morality.

She'd rather stop atop a thousand thick thins
Than to stare at broken ben's slick grin
Because baring that burden of bought thought trot,
She saw paw after paw of not a whole lot.

Broken ben had only one wand away
Before he could cast his last spell for her to repay
The time she stole from poor broken ben
And the thick headed hounds who too were men

Ally had no suit staking sorrows
Or she would have had a whole hand of tomorrows
As she gambled away the gargantuant gray
She wasted away the time took today

To know what broken ben's heart hates
Is to know the whereabouts of soft sounding snakes
And since soft sounding snakes are hard to find
Broken ben's heart can no longer be mine

He leaves with the message "hey, dont you worry"
Dead with the deed and doused with the fury
For only few men forget what was lost
It still stands today as the love, once tossed.


The author's comments:
it takes a special mind to analyze this one

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