flight of the word
at a desperate pace
wanting to be heard
entering the race
getting to hot
running at will
finding no spot
not being still
looking for line
wanting a verse
a poem of any kind
nothing is worst
just a lost word
who needs so badly
space to be heard
taking it gladly
never lose heart
words are needed
for lines to start
in a garden seeded
words put in soil
to patiently grow
their place to toil
is all they know
Monday, June 15, 2009
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