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Anger
Built up
Toxic
Spreading unchecked
Fire inside
Each team
The rich are poor losers
Or so it would seem
Krista said it well and then left me to tell the tale,
But the point was more elusive than these birds,
That swoop from out the sky of mind
to fall down some deep well.
Well,
The truth is hard to catch just right in words.

If I had half a twenty for all the times,
My words weren’t what I meant,
Or even less…?
Then all the meaning buried,
Beneath defaced US bills,
Would break my heart,
It’d be a ******* mess.

So, heads up poets, final warning,
The reader needs you now.
Best not **** it up, my friends,
And make to them this vow,

Please don’t preach,
And break no hearts,
Try not to show your ***.

Use plain speech,
Put away the thesaurus,
Let’s have a little class.

‘Cause out there words are spoken in vain,
In the smoky air they are forced to fill.
Talking heads make truth seem insane,
Finding meaning takes all of your will.

It’s hard to find the truth these days,
And even harder still…

When dangerous lies are sold as truth,
Common sense can sound absurd.
When empathy and integrity,
Are ranked in second and third…
Then the poet is needed more than ever.
The truth is hard to catch just right in words.
Here’s a clever poem about poetry-making…

If there’s one thing that I cannot abide, it’s clever ******* poems about poetry-making.  
They always feel like masturbatory exercises when we should be writing to capture the hearts and minds of people who don’t even like poetry.  Okay, rant off.
I do kind of like how the meter lends itself to some kind of rambling, Dylan-esque folksy, talking-blues format.

Hello Poetry poet Krista Dellefemine commented on one of my poems, “Loyal Hearts”, saying “The truth is hard to get just right in words”, which became a kind of a suggestion to be a poem in its own right.  I joked that I would do it and, hey, presto!  It only took five years to get around to it.  My inertia knows no bounds.
I wish I had it in me
To be great
And to shine
And create something memorable
On purpose
And to know it
The creation of something memorable
Recognized
By memorable people
And what that feels like
But I don’t have it in me
The ability to bear the weight
Of being great
The luxury of boredom
Like anything else
Can become too much of a good thing
I avoided your social media
For obvious reasons
It was pretty easy
We don't share any friends
A year went by
And then two
I finally ventured a peek at you
I don't know what I once saw
But it is no longer there
You used to be perfect
When I wasn't aware
I’m older than the internet
Older than cell phones
Air bags,
I got a few years on Mrs. Pac Man, too
I’m older than My Little Pony
And He Man; he’s just a youth
Easy Bake Oven, younger than me
So are VCRs and DVD
No ATMs present
Till I was a teen
And microwaves
Didn’t exist either
I’m thinking about
All the things we went without
But why did it seem so much easier?
It took the pain away
You said
I suppose it did
Cuz now you’re dead
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