Censored

Censored

In some subterranean cave
in my brain
lives a censor gnome
who approves ideas
before I publish them.

It’s his fault if they escape 
   before they’re fully dressed.
It’s his fault if they slip out
    without their homework done.
It’s his fault if they forget the rules
     from chapters in dull textbooks.
It’s his fault, if misunderstood, they get lost
     in someone else’s brain. 
Censor gnome gets all the blame.
He was asleep when this idea snuck out.

Bonnie Marshall
            
                                    

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