poetry is nothing
but wasted breath
coalescing before
falling unheard
to writhe in
heartthistle fields
poets are nothing
but gasping fish
flopping foolishly
on the shore staring
at the sun rising
over the ocean
poetry is nothing
but wasted breath
coalescing before
falling unheard
to writhe in
heartthistle fields
poets are nothing
but gasping fish
flopping foolishly
on the shore staring
at the sun rising
over the ocean
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
ha! now that’s an image to behold.
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