Wednesday, January 21, 2015

More Words

Ink isn't coming off my pen as easy as it did
Everything becomes a never-ending comparison

Is it good enough?
Bold enough?
Will it touch deep enough?

Have I ordered ordinary words extraordinarily?

Or could anyone spit them,
Scramble them,
By chance shake them so they fall in this order?

Like the poets skill is random.

You can only logically create so much.

Until it sounds just right.

Riley Welch

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