The words hide themselves from my mind..
so I search for the right words to find…
I sit for hours speaking them aloud
just to come up with something I’d be proud…
Rhyme and reason intermingle in a kiss…
and then all the points I seem to consist..
I see this child of word and rhyme mature..
and upon this I bask in something to nurture
The fluid motion of something so imperfect..
with upon to look back and recollect..
One day, maybe this jumble of rhyme and reason
will one day come into the light of it’s own season..
No one likes a hallmark card with high notes..
filled with happy smiles and benchmark quotes..
Sell the mass a happy face to make the board green..
but then they wonder what all the innuendo’s mean..
Do they publish the unknown poets of the world?
Do they just hire a five year old little girl?

09/11/2003

Posted on 09/11/2003
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