What Do You Know?

She asked me.

“Hello. What do you know my friend?”
She asked me, walking in the room.
I’ve thought it about long, since then,
For I said little.
So she might assume

That little is all that I know.
Which might be right, I cannot say:
My learning, seems to come and go.
I did say that I liked
Her new perfume…

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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