Trying
to be profound and rhyme doesn’t always match up well in my poetry.
Voicing It
 |
| I think he was four here and it was Easter. |
Sing
a song of silence
Upon
the sea of bread and treats
It
gives you empty mileage
And
slurps up all to defeat
Sing
a song of soapsuds
To
scrub yourself all raw
There
is no other color
That
brings you from the spa
Sing
a song of sinews
Bunching
it all up together
To
cut them now would string you
A
broken web light as a feather
Sing
a song that’s silly
Except
for your own part
The
road with pebbles and rock candy
Shall
always break your heart
Sing
a song to sing
To
free the soul and mind
Feel
the wind with glee
Leave
troubles all behind
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