Why The Words?

 

 

Life’s blood flows, from heart to virgin page of white,

This part of me I give, expose this to the light.

 

Simply words, memories folded and kept,

Draw what you will, your meaning I accept.

 

Small pieces of me, reside in rhythm and rhyme,

Excised and presented, just a little at a time.

 

On a hopeful chance that some may read,

These chosen words, then I concede.

 

That you and I will always see

The silent beauty that poetry can be.

 

Stoic.

 

 

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