The Bumbler

[rowens]

The rhymes are weak in most places.

He breathes in our woes and slants,
Exhaling historicity just like the sternest plants

A ghost like leaf, breezing here and there,
Just a chip and a chink on this rock, he will always remember


Starting lines with 'for' and 'so' doesn't help.

For he knows there is nothing to find,
So he purely sits back to watch the mazes of life unwind

Words like 'for', 'so' and 'just' you have to be careful with.