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steven-l-herringPoems
By Steven L Herring If I were a poet, I'd be damaged goods and all the world would whisper as I sought beauty in the woods If I were a poet, a peculiar one I'd be Robust in every single way morning, noon, and end of day all I am is me If I were a poet, an oddity in fact, I'd start my days with gasoline and the brightness of a match If I were a poet, I'd bleed on every page Silence, sadness, laughter, love; crescendoing in rage I am a poet! A wordsmith if you will But even if you won't, a poet I am still!
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Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 8:54 AM UTC
But What are You?
By Steven L Herring If I were a poet, I'd be damaged goods and all the world would whisper as I sought beauty in the woods If I were a poet, a peculiar one I'd be Robust in every single way morning, noon, and end of day all I am is me If I were a poet, an oddity in fact, I'd start my days with gasoline and the brightness of a match If I were a poet, I'd bleed on every page Silence, sadness, laughter, love; crescendoing in rage I am a poet! A wordsmith if you will But even if you won't, a poet I am still!
steven-l-herring
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steven-l-herring
Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 8:54 AM UTC
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