Wednesday, January 12, 2022


 Poem #34

This is the poem of my life

In it everything will be perfect

Nothing will flow

Not a word will rhyme

It will lack articulable meaning 

People will be so angry

Such words were inscribed

Others will laugh 

What the hell, they’ll ask

This sheet of white

Used to be so clean,

Who’s smudged it all up?

Shake their heads and walk away

For them, it’s a strange language

Or just a lousy translation

It’s not my fault though
They don't really see it 

Not the way I do

I find it beautiful 

My first goal

My truest laugh

My favorite song 

It’s not my fault at all

I didn’t even write it 

It was just the words

That were here all along 


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