There are days in which my mind seeks poetry
Poetry of all forms and aspects,
Poetry in its truest, simplest form
In a form only I can feel
A poetry of free formity, balance, and stature
That equates to thoughts and structures
Of my free mind
There are days in which the poetry I seek doesn’t reach me
Just existing as a mere thought
Through which I wonder,
Will my poetry ever reach me?
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
There are days in which my mind seeks poetry
Poetry of all forms and aspects,
Poetry in its truest, simplest form
In a form only I can feel
A poetry of free formity, balance, and stature
That equates to thoughts and structures
Of my free mind
There are days in which the poetry I seek doesn’t reach me
Just existing as a mere thought
Through which I wonder,
Will my poetry ever reach me?
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