Poetic

 

Your words fly, wings to my heart

The blank page from which we start

Holds promises of thoughts unheard

Pray my pen finds a phrase, a perfect word

 

From you I see a life unknown

Emotions and thoughts, I am not alone

Bound by rhyme we stumble on

Lives exposed in poets song

 

They like to say that poetry died

In beat and sonnet, confused they lied

My words and yours march along

To a different beat and a beautiful song

 

(Stoic)

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