Wait for the Day to Dawn
As the sky blanket billows down
On top, blends gray and brown
Spread your potluck on the ground
And wait for the sky to sob.
As the river ripples clear
Filled with sorrow, built with tears
Welcome friends to share a cheer
And wait for the news to ring.
As the wind hums its tune
Silent cry of weathering dune
Stay awhile, don't leave so soon
Just wait for the mill to whistle
What Happens to the Lost?
Some believe in souls
Others that they're up for sale
And that he'll buy you out eventually,
Inevitably.
I think,
No one knows how now.
So really,
Why bother worrying.
What is Poetry?
Poetry is everything you aspire to be
Things better than the best thing,
and worse than the worst.
Poetry is everything you are
Things you wear around your neck,
And things you hide in your shoe
When you want no one to see.
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