I sit down and write words of random prose, and when I get to the end and look back, I see a skewed and unexpected image of what others might see.
But when I write poetry,
And get to the end, and look back
All I see, is a mirror image,
Of the emotion within my soul
That compelled me to write it in the first place.
2 comments:
How clever. And how cool. And how exactly right!
We must have similar souls, pauline 'cause you so quickly comprehended those thoughts. Thanks for commenting.
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