Apr
20th
Mon
20th
Why Poetry?
(Practice with making each line six syllables…)
Sometimes my mind breaks
and I let all thinking
ooze out into sweet lyrics.
From my fragile dreams and fears,
I blow a crystal vial, where
inside, truth’s venom sleeps.
Until, well-lit and vulnerable,
I stand before Them All
and fling my crystal soul
to be smashed but re-Born
in the memories of all.
