There has to be something to show the way,
In the fumbling flash of thoughts and just how,
As night draws us closer to each dawning day,
Where we plan for a future that grows out of now.
There has to be something to do or to say,
In a stumbling dash to prevent or allow,
The night that approaches to soothe a bright day,
Where the words resonate and the sound is just…
"wow..."
Grown from free associating, and probably about the feelings when reading another person’s verse. The best ones come falling out, imperfect but fully formed anyway, right? I feel like my best poetic writing are ones whose origin I couldn’t clearly tell you; whose meaning isn’t completely clear.
