I'm trapped in my own labyrinth, funny isn't it?
And no one's willing to lend me a hand
The string that keeps me back is already broken
The light that gives me hope has slowly faded ...
(With apologies to the singer of the “Song of the Banjo”.)
I'm a homely little bit of tin and bone;
I'm beloved by the Legion of the Lost;
I haven't got a “vox humana” tone,
And a dime or two will satisfy my cost.
I don't attempt your high-falutin' flights;
I am more or less uncertain on the key;
... Read complete poem