Phooey


What in the world?
I have nothing spontaneous coming to mind
and I repeatedly fail miserably
at the sacred art of rhyme
along with my inability to make time
for myself to express my poorly concocted feelings
-or whatever you’d like to call them

the point is:
everybody is a poet.
whether you write your thoughts on paper or not
it’s just difficult to put yourself on the spot
to make lyrical art like the greats that we read of
with hidden messages behind seemingly useless words
like “snow” or “glove”

we are scared to misinterpret
the writer’s theme, mood, or meaning
What if we get it wrong?
would that be considered demeaning?
Phooey.

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